Vacation
by AshesAshes83
Summary: A long road trip and subsequent beach vacation seems like the perfect antidote for life, but who put falling in love on the itinerary? AH/AU - all canon pairings Rated M for language, lemons, and brief drug use (much to Edward's dismay) I do not own Twilight
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

BPOV

"Bella, wake up. If you want to make it to the beach before sunset then we should've been on the road twenty minutes ago!"

Rosalie's barking infiltrates my pleasant dreams, and I roll over to check the time on my phone. It's 5:00 A.M. and way too early for this shit. We are more than three quarters of the way through our trip across the country, which means there's finally a light at the end of the tunnel. Don't get me wrong; I love Rosalie Hale more than just about anyone else in the world, but when I signed on to be part of her mid-twenties crisis, I must have been high as a fucking kite.

We're on our way to sunny Florida to experience the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, and despite my bossy, ever-nagging companion, I cannot wait. Together, Rose and I grew up in Forks, Washington, an insufferably small town, barely clinging to the northwestern tip of the country. The ocean is nearby, but it's not the same. The Pacific is a beautiful sight when the sun comes out, but that's hardly ever. The beaches near Forks are typically cold, gray, and littered with driftwood—definitely not the sugar-white sands and turquoise waters of the Gulf that I've been reading about.

We're making excellent timing, thanks to lead feet and ten-hour driving shifts, but this is the third day in a row I've been rudely awakened by my blonde-haired drill Sargent and shoved into a car.

I'm officially over it.

After showering, brushing my teeth, and throwing on some comfortable clothes, I drag my sorry ass, along with my suitcase, out to the trunk of the car. Rose revs the engine of her small but powerful Mercedes as a gesture of impatience. I begged her to stop in Kansas City last night, but she insisted we make it to Arkansas before stopping to rest. So here we are, and even at five in the morning, the heat is thick and suffocating.

When she honks the horn at me just as I'm reaching for the passenger door handle, I resist the urge to reach in and rip the blonde ponytail right off her head. Instead, I take a deep breath and remind myself of the reason behind her madness. Last month, Rosalie ended her three-year relationship with Greg Newton, that insignificant prick. She caught him in his dorm room with Irina Denali, a cheap, bottle-blonde whore, who has nothing, and I mean _nothing_, on Rosalie.

Greg's younger brother, Mike, is our age and has had a boner for me for as long as I can remember. He's even more insufferable than his pig-headed brother, and I've spent half my life ignoring his advances.

Alas, when Rose propositioned me with two weeks of sand and sun as a gift to ourselves for making it through college alive, I couldn't turn her down. She was heartbroken, and I'm her best friend; it's my duty to do whatever it takes to help her get over the unworthy scumbag. However, as we drive through the stifling, pitch black morning, and Rose begins singing at the top of her lungs to the various songs on the 'Kiss My Ass, Greg Newton' soundtrack, I find myself calculating and contemplating the many ways in which I can kill her, dispose of the body before the sun rises, and continue the trip solo.

_Twelve more hours_. _Just twelve more hours_.

This is my mantra.

Somewhere between Arkansas and wherever we are now, I apparently mantra'd myself to sleep, because the next thing I know, Rose is pinching my arm to wake me up.

"Ouch, damnit!" I sit up, smacking away her manicured hand.

"We're at our last stopping point; only four hours left!" she exclaims, bouncing in her seat.

I look around, and it feels as though we're in a different country altogether. There's literally nothing around us.

Nothing.

At least in Forks there are trees to look at, an occasional mountain or two. But here, in the middle of East Jesus, there's just nothing for miles around us. The air that blows in through my window is hot and soupy, making breathing almost impossible.

"Where the hell are we?"

"Mississippi," Rose says in a terrible southern accent.

I laugh despite myself and step out of the vehicle to stretch my limbs. She hooks the car up to the gas pump and searches for a place to slide her credit card. The gas station appears to have not changed since 1947, and I know she's not going to find what she's looking for.

"Dude, these pumps are ancient. I think we have to pay inside," I tell her, pulling the matted hair off my back and mashing it into some sort of bun on the top of my head.

She scoffs at the inconvenience. "Fine, we may as well pee and get some water while we're here."

We walk into the small, un-air conditioned gas station, and I almost gag at the smell of petroleum and human sweat. The tenant—a creepy, toothless fellow—takes no measure to hide his ogling as we walk to the small cooler in the back to grab some bottled water. The creep whistles his appreciation at us, and Rose and I look at each other.

"Let me handle this," she says. "I'm going to pay and ask Cletus over there for a bathroom key, and then you and I are out of here."

God, I love it when she takes charge.

The clerk's grin widens and his eyebrows do-si-do across his forehead as we approach the counter. "What can I get for you little ladies?" His twang is thick and consumes every word he speaks.

Rose almost growls, and I have to grab her elbow to remind her that we have a beach to get to. Cletus is not worth it.

"I'll take forty on the pump and these waters. And can we get a key to the restroom, please?"

I nod, proud of her composure.

"You gals sure are pretty little things. If I had to guess, I'd say y'all weren't from around here," he says, making no move to scan our items or ring up the gas.

Rose cocks an eyebrow. "How on earth did you guess?" she says, shoving the two bottles of water across the counter. She's so deadpan; I love it.

"Well, ain't nobody 'round here pretty as you two. Especially you, blondie. Where y'all headed in that fancy car, anyhow? Maybe I could join you, and we could have some real fun," he says, rolling a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue. He's dangling the bathroom key inches from Rose's reach.

I sigh and release her elbow, giving her the all-clear to reply how she sees fit. She does not disappoint.

"Listen, you trout-mouthed yokel, give me my receipt and the key to the restroom, or I'll reach down your throat and remove your balls through your mouth," she says. If looks could castrate . . .

"Ooh wee! All right, don't get yer pretty little panties in a knot," he says and hands her the key. It's zip-tied to a long, wooden paddle with a message on its side imploring the reader to _Git er done_. "Y'all come back, now," he says with a suggestive wink, rolling the toothpick back to the other side of his tar-stained lips.

An audible sound of disgust is the only response Rose gives as we walk back into the heat.

I feel bad for having slept all day, and after using the deplorable facilities and tossing the key onto the doorstep of the seedy station, I volunteer to take the wheel for the rest of the journey. Rose pumps gas as I unlatch the roof and put the top down.

When the tank is full, she hangs up the pump and hops over the door, landing gracefully in the passenger seat. "Let's get the hell out of here."

She doesn't have to tell me twice. I put the pedal to the metal and floor it back to the highway.

00000

Thanks for reading, guys! This story will have alternating POV's, and up next is Edward and Emmett. I plan to post at least once a week, and the story is about half way finished as it stands. Thanks to Fran for helping me decide which plot bunny to run with, and for betaing. See you guys next week!


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Twilight

Chapter 2

EPOV

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. I can_not_ believe you smuggled that shit into my car. What if a cop sees us?" I say, glancing around with growing paranoia.

Why did I agree to a road trip? At this very moment, I could be at home, sleeping on my couch. Instead, I'm driving seven hundred miles _away_ from my couch for the sole pleasure of my so-called best friend. I'm too nice for my own good, and Emmett reminds me of it every single day.

"Edward, try to calm the fuck down. We're almost to the beach, and when we get there and you see all the fine-ass beach bunnies, you'll be thanking me for talking you into this," Emmett says, rolling his unwelcome marijuana into a thin leaf of paper.

"Why did you have to bring pot? I don't even want to guess where you found it. If we get pulled over with that shit, _I'm_ the one getting nailed for it, not you. And you better pray to the god of over-sized morons that you don't put a single burn mark in this car because if you do, you're a fucking dead man," I say, and God help me, I mean every single word of it, too.

I miss my couch.

"I'm doing this for you, dipshit. We have one more summer of freedom before the real world kicks us in the ass. We need to let loose—do something crazy. And _you_ need to pull your head out of your ass and relax. That's why I brought the pot. You're only twenty-three, man; you need to stop acting like such an old, douchey asshole. This is our last hurrah. Before you know it, we'll be in med school and you'll never let us have fun again."

"You got that right," I say with a sigh.

We crossed the border into Florida not too long ago and only have another hour or so to go before we reach the beach house that cost me a month's wages to rent on such short notice. Emmett has absolutely no reason to partake in the car—a convertible at that. Right out in the open for the mother fucking world to see. Fuck, whatever. There's no point in fighting him about it. Arguing with Emmett, I've learned over the last fifteen years, is beyond pointless. All it does is irritate the shit out of me, and somehow, he always wins.

When he gags, coughs, and chokes on the smoke, I smirk. Serves him right. Neither of us has touched the stuff since our high school days. Once we got to college and had constant access to alcohol, we had no use for pot. I don't know why he's suddenly so nostalgic for the worst four years of our lives.

Well, they were the worst four years of _my_ life, anyway.

Emmett was the king of our Cincinnati high school; I was not. His family moved in next door to mine when we were both eight years old, and we've been best friends ever since. Until ninth grade, we were pretty much on par with each other socially. We both loved comics, super heroes, and just about everything else that anyone without a life would find interesting. We were dorks, but we were dorks together. I almost cried when Emmett told me he'd be spending the whole summer before our freshman year of high school at his grandmother's house in Pasadena. I was miserable without him and counted the days until his return.

When he finally did come home, I hardly recognized him. Puberty had hit Emmett. Hard. He was almost a foot taller than when he left, and suddenly, he had muscles. His voice was deeper, too. To make matters worse, he'd gotten a tan from a summer spent in the California sun, while I, on the other hand, hadn't changed one iota. I took one look at him and literally felt my testicles crawl inside my body in shame. In three short months, Emmett had become a man, and I was still the same scrawny, pasty, brace-faced, pimply, squeaky-voiced loser I was before he left.

Despite his transformation, nothing else changed between us, and for the first two years of my miserable existence in high school, Emmett was my bodyguard. I'd always been bullied for being smarter than everyone in my class, and Emmett had been bullied merely for being the chubby kid who hung out with me. But when we returned to school that fall, no one dared to mess with Emmett, and he made sure no one messed with me, either.

He will always be my best friend, my brother.

Once I finally matured the summer after sophomore year, things got a little better for me. I was still a skinny fuck, just a tall skinny fuck. I tried hard to make something of my body, and Emmett and I would spend hours working out in the high school's weight training room. This became an almost daily ritual for us that we still carry on to this day. I am, by no means, the muscle-head that Emmett naturally is, but I've worked hard and have a little something to be proud of. I can even hold my own when we wrestle.

Yeah, we still wrestle. What?

We pull up to a stoplight, and Emmett attempts to hand me the oversized joint he managed to roll on a CD case in his lap. Just like high school.

"Get that thing out of my face. We're at a stoplight; everyone can see what we're doing," I say with shifty eyes.

"Dude, no one's around, just a quick one; come on, it's been years. Have a little fun for once, cock breath," he says, laughing like a stoned hyena.

Grudgingly, I look around and see that we're alone at the intersection. Grabbing his wrist, I take a pull off the joint for the lone purpose of shutting him the fuck up.

"There you go, man! Here, take another," he said, holding it up to my face. In the rearview mirror, I see a car approaching in the distance and smack his hand away. He loses his grip on the joint and it falls to the floorboard at my feet.

"What the _fuck_, Emmett," I yell, growing more and more pissed by the second as Emmett continues laughing his ass off. At this point, it's really just wheezing. "Quit laughing and get your ass down there! Get it before it burns a hole through the bottom of my car!" I'm yelling in such a manner that Emmett looks like a scolded child.

"All right, dude; take it easy," he says and leans over, searching with his hand. "I don't feel it."

"Well you better fucking find it, or I'm going to make your dick useless to all those _beach_ _bunnies_ you're looking forward to banging over the next three weeks."

His eyes go wide and he's on his knees in his seat in a flash. His face is smashed to the floorboard between my feet. "I see it! It's under your seat. Hold on, I almost got it."

I close my eyes and press my head to the back of my seat, silently cursing the day we met. My first brand new car—a graduation present from my father—and he pulls this shit. He'd better pray . . .

The car I saw behind us pulls up to my left, and I instinctively turn my head to look. My heart stops beating when I lay eyes on the most gorgeous brunette I've seen in all my twenty-three years. Perfection is in the driver's seat, and I have a great view since whoever's in the passenger side has reclined their seat all the way back.

I practically have to yank my jaw off the back of Emmett's head when the brunette notices me. She stares at my dumb-ass for the most fleeting of moments and immediately takes her dark eyes away to face the road. My stomach does summersaults when I see the corner of her mouth turn up in a smile. I know my staring is excessive and probably a little creepy, but I just can't look away.

She turns back to me, and when she looks into my eyes and graces me with a perfectly crooked smile, my heart finally revives and is now threatening to pound out of my chest.

I smile back and wave to her. She blushes—oh God, she's so lovely when she blushes—and mouths 'hi' to me. Just then, because I'm pretty sure God created me to be a walking punch-line, Emmett pops his head up from in between my legs, sweaty and out of breath.

"Finally! God, that took forever," he says loudly . . . _too_ loudly. I've never wanted to divorce him as a friend more in my life than I do at this moment.

Aphrodite's eyes are now wide as saucers. "Oh, my God!" she blurts out, and her passenger sits up, instantly awake.

Emmett snaps his head in their direction, and then we look at each other. I can hear my mahogany-haired goddess laughing at us, and I want to die. I squeeze my eyes shut before sneaking a glance at her from the corner of my eye. Fuck me. She's pointing at us and explaining to her friend what she thinks she just witnessed.

Emmett is still dazed and confused in my lap, and I heave him off me with a rough shove. When the penny _finally _drops, and he fully understands the compromising situation we're in, we both stammer over each other as we stupidly try to explain ourselves.

"No. No, no!"

"It's not—he wasn't—"

"I'm not…"

It's no use. The girl of my dreams is laughing too hard to hear us, and her blond companion points across the intersection.

"There's a Motel 6 right over there, boys. I'm sure they have hourly rates," she says, and they both erupt in laughter once more.

"But we weren't—we aren't—"

The light changes before I can string a coherent sentence together, and the two of them speed off, leaving us to eat their dust.

"What the _fuck_!" I yell, taking it out on my steering wheel. When the car behind me honks, I gesture rudely and begin to move again.

Emmett isn't at all fazed by my hysterics. "Man, did you get a load of that blonde? Fuck, she was incredible. Definitely a ten," he says, still in awe.

"Yeah, I did. And you know what? _She thinks you were sucking my dick,_" I yell again.

"Re_lax_, bro, we'll never see them again in our lives. It's a damn shame, too. That blonde . . ." he says with a low whistle, passing me the joint again.

Fuck.

My.

Life.

00000

Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope you liked your introduction to Ed and Em. Geez, Edward has quite the stick up his ass, right? Well, hopefully, that won't be the last he's seen of Bella. Maybe he'll be able to relax a little when he sees her again. Then again, she does think he's gay …

Big thanks to Fran for betaing, and to Alice's White Rabbit for providing a shoulder to cry on last week when my house was burglarized and my laptop was stolen along with EVERYTHING I've ever written. I was able to spare a couple important pieces, including this story, thanks to email chains, but nevertheless …

I'll see you all next week. I'm off to go spend some time doing my new favorite pastime, wound-licking.

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Twilight.

Chapter 3

BPOV

After checking in at the main office and retrieving our keys, I drive to our designated beach house and park Rose's baby in the small attached garage. The adorable green and white bungalow will be our oceanfront home for the next two weeks. We get out of the car and walk back down the driveway to take in the full view of our little oasis. I inhale deeply and smile. It doesn't smell like First Beach, or Rialto, or Shi Shi, or any other beach we're used to.

It smells … _tropical_.

"Well, almost four days later and here we are. We should probably unload the car first and get it over with, huh?" Rose asks, scrunching her perfect face.

I nod my agreement and chew my bottom lip, contemplating how long it will take to tackle the annoying but necessary task. We look at each other, and I catch the glimmer of mischief in Rose's eyes that I love so much. I smile back, and without another word, we both take off, racing between the houses and onto the beach, only stopping when we reach the surf. The sun is just beginning to set, and the sky has turned the most incredible fiery orange I've ever seen.

Every second of our excruciating car ride is justified at this moment.

"Wow," I breath as my heartrate returns to normal. Rosalie is grinning and bouncing on her heels beside me.

We walk along the surf for the duration of the sunset, letting the waves crash over our bare legs. The water is deliciously warm and inviting, and the sand is snow white and soft as baby powder. We immediately make plans to plant our happy asses on the beach and sunbathe for the majority of the day tomorrow. I don't think it's possible for me to get a tan, considering I have the skin of an albino, but I'm sure my body will appreciate a hefty dose of vitamin D, regardless.

Only when every bit of sunlight is gone do we reluctantly trudge back to the garage and unload our luggage. Rose unlocks the door and flips on the light switch. We both look around, and I can't help but giggle-snort. With all the wicker and glass furniture, it's like we just stepped onto the set of _The Golden Girls, _or something_._

Apparently, Rosalie is having the same thought. "Well, _Blanche_, shall we unpack now or wait until later?" she asks.

"I'm sorry, but if anyone's Blanche, it's you," I say, pulling my suitcase through the living room and down a narrow hallway. We watch way too much bad TV.

Rose snickers behind me. "You're so right. I can't wait to be an old whore," she says, and our giggles continue as we let out three days' worth of pent-up energy.

"Gross, if I don't unpack now, it's never going to happen, and I really don't want to live out of my luggage," I tell her as I heft my suitcase onto the queen size bed of the first room I come to. Packing and unpacking will be the bane of my vacation, but I don't want to put it off.

Rosalie agrees and heads to her own room, and we both spend precious time getting ourselves organized for the next couple weeks.

After a while, she calls to me from the bedroom across the hall. "I'm hungry; what about you?"

My stomach snarls at the mention of food. "Starving, what should we do?"

She enters my room and drapes herself across the bed. "Let's just order in tonight, and tomorrow, we can find a grocery store and stock the kitchen."

"Sounds good to me, Blanche."

Once I have everything organized and in its place, we head out of my room and into the kitchen.

"We should go out tomorrow night and check out the scene. And when I say scene, I mean guys. I'm in desperate need of a rebound, or five," Rosalie says, hopping onto a stool at the breakfast counter and cracking open her laptop.

"Aw, Christ, Rose. I don't want to have to listen to you making up for lost time with Fun-n-Sun Ken every other night for the next two and a half weeks. This is supposed to be fun for _both _of us, remember?" I know I'm whining, but dammit, this is not what I had in mind when I signed up for Rose's little adventure. I didn't anticipating needing earplugs when I packed my suitcase.

"Hey, I need to have a real orgasm for the first time in three years, and you need to have an orgasm, _period_. Trust me, Bella, I'm not going to become the slut of Pensacola Beach, but if someone wonderful happens to float my way, I'm not going to deny my urges, either. You need to loosen up and let yourself have some fun for once. You're way overdue for a good, hard lay," she says, googling local pizza places.

I scoff and snort and sputter my indignation for a good ten seconds before I can actually respond. "You act like I've never had sex before, Rosalie. I've _had_ sex before," I say and regret it immediately.

I know what's coming.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but the three times you had 'sex' with Embry Call does not count. He's a child, first of all. And second of all, you aren't even sure it went all the way in. That's not sex, honey; that's just sad."

She has me there.

I roll my eyes. "He's only three years younger than me, Rose. And I'm almost positive it went all the way in," I mutter.

I am so pathetic.

"Nope, not good enough. When you finally do have grown-up sex, you'll know it. You'll know it, and you'll never forget it. Then you'll want it all the time. You'll become a fiend, and I won't be able to control you," she says, laughing at herself a little too hard.

"Ha ha. You can shut up now," I say dryly. I want to be mad at her, but instead, I laugh, too.

Maybe Rose is right. Maybe I _do_ need to get laid.

V

EPOV

I flip on the light in my room and smile. It's sizable and clean and will suit me just fine. I carefully lay my suitcase on the bed and unzip it, and Emmett whistles a happy tune as he walks into his own room. Seconds later, I hear what can only be his suitcase hitting the wall and crashing to the floor.

"Okay, I'm ready! Let's go get drunk and find some beach pussy," he says, flinging his massive body onto my bed and dumping my open suitcase onto the floor.

I close my eyes and grit my teeth, reminding myself that I should expect no less from him. "You're disgusting. I still have to unpack, and you've just managed to lengthen that process for me, so thank you."

"Fuck unpacking, Edward. The salty air is calling my name! There's beer to drink and bitches to nail!"

"Move please," I mutter, ignoring his excitement and shoving his big foot off my clean clothes.

"Come on, don't do this to me. Leave that shit for later; you can unpack tomorrow. Let's go find some action—get into trouble like we used to," he says, wagging his eyebrows up and down.

I want to rip them off his face.

With Emmett, you don't have to worry about looking for trouble; it'll almost certainly find you first.

"Do you have to be a vagina-hound every second of your life? You're on my shit, now move," I say trying to roll him off my once, neatly packed clothes.

"Jeez, Nancy, forgive me for wrinkling your panties." He throws a pair of boxers in my face. "This is why we're _here_, Edward. What did you think we were going to do for the next three weeks, play dominos and jerk each other off?"

My eyes cut sharply to his face. "I knew what to expect when I agreed to this trip, but _fuck_, Emmett, you made me drive the whole way here. I'm tired, and all I want to do is unpack my shit and enjoy five seconds of not being right next to you," I say, sighing when his entire frame collapses in on itself and his eyebrows pull together high on his forehead. He's puppy-dogging me—formidably so, I might add—and I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Fuck, all right, just give me an hour to get organized and take a shower, and then we'll go out, okay? Is that good enough for you, dickhead?"

Emmett whoops and howls now that he's gotten his way. When I give him the look I only use when I'm completely out of patience, he quiets down, though he's still grinning like a fool.

"Fuck yes, Edward. I promise, you will not regret this. And don't worry about a thing. Tonight, everything is on me," he says, slapping me extra hard on the back.

Is he _trying _to get punched in the face?

"You're damn right it's on you. And take a fucking shower, at the very least. Do you really want to subject some poor, unsuspecting girl to your unholy stench?" I say, hanging a pair of jeans in the closet.

Emmett sniffs his armpit and shrugs. "I figured whoever the lucky lady is will be too drunk to notice."

I give him the look again and take a step toward him.

"Hey, how about I go take a shower?" he says, quickly backing out of my room.

I sigh again and rub my forehead. This routine is getting old, and it's the same no matter where we are. Emmett and I go out, get shit-faced wasted, and Emmett hunts for tail. Like the needle of a compass, his dick points him to the hottest girl in the bar and he goes in for the kill, thereby sticking _me_ with her annoying, way-less-hot friend. I always feel dirty, and I always end up mourning the loss of my dignity the next day.

Every single time, I tell myself it'll be different, that I won't take advantage of some drunk, clueless girl, but it never is and I always do. After so many shots of whatever Emmett is buying, Little Eddie takes over and the cycle continues. Unfortunately, the only alternative is forcing us to stay inside and dealing with a sulking Baby Huey all night as a result. We'll inevitably get drunk and start to argue, and that only leads to a fist fight.

Okay, so it's only gone that far twice before, but I have no desire to make it a trilogy.

After unpacking and getting myself decently situated, I head for the shower, giving myself the usual pep-talk. Although I recognize the lie as soon as it enters my brain, my willpower still clings to the notion . . .

_Tonight will be different. _

00000

Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I love to hear your thoughts. So, we got a look at everyone's first night in town. The girls are staying in and the guys are headed out. I wonder if E's self-control will remain intact …

Big thanks to Fran for being an awesome beta and drawing attention to this little ditty. See you all next week for the morning after.

XOXO,

A


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own Twilight

Chapter 4

BPOV

Rose and I take our time strolling through the small grocery store we found about a mile from the bungalow. Armed with the list we made last night while under the influence of copious amounts of white wine, we carefully make our way down each aisle. I don't know how many glasses we'd consumed by the time Play-Doh and douche made the list, but I scratch them out and move on.

Loading up the cart, we grab everything necessary to keep ourselves nourished for at least a week. I have my survival foods—cereal, pizza rolls, maraschino cherries, etc.—and Rose has hers, which always includes packets of tuna fish. Lots and lots of tuna fish. We also pick out various meats and fresh seafood for the grill, as well as a few things for meals, salads, and of course, enough alcohol to keep us schnockered for days.

It's nearly 11:00 A.M. when we make it back to the beach house, and after putting away the groceries, we retreat to our respective rooms to change into our beachwear. Just as I'm tying the strings of the green bikini I picked up last week at the Walmart in Port Angeles, Rosalie glides into my room looking like a tropical goddess in the turquoise Brazilian bikini and matching sarong she ordered from Victoria's Secret.

"How do I look?" she asks, striking a pose that would put any of old Vicky's angels to shame.

I let out a loud whistle and hand her a bottle of SPF 50. "Heartbreakingly beautiful, as usual. Here, help me cake this crap on so I don't look like a Twizzler by the end of the day."

Guh, I will never be tan.

She helps me lather up, and we gather our beach essentials: iPod and dock, _check_, beach bag, _check,_ cooler stuffed with plenty of Corona to drink and fruit to munch on, _double check_. It isn't long before we're stretched out side-by-side in a cabana, drinking an ice cold beer and soaking up more direct sunlight than the city of Forks will see all year.

The beach is nearly deserted, aside from a family in the distance who appear to be playing a game of volleyball.

I can get used to this.

V

EPOV

I pour myself a very hot, very black cup of coffee and head out the sliding glass door. Stepping onto the small patio, I take a seat and put my feet up, enjoying the incredible view as I stew in my misery. Last night was rough, to say the least, and I'm now paying a heavy price to the party gods. Emmett is still sleeping, and I have half a mind to waltz into his room and wake him up in the rudest manner possible. But I don't. I hurt entirely too much to do that idea any justice.

When I first opened my eyes this morning and saw the gooey-faced, blonde-haired stranger staring up at me, I knew I'd done it again. As smoothly as possible, I avoided kissing her and wiggled my way out of her arms. I then proceeded to hide in the bathroom for the next twenty minutes, figuring out how I was ever going to get rid of her.

As soon as I opened the bathroom door, she was on me like white on rice, trying to convince me to come back to bed. I quickly threw on my clothes and offered her a cup of coffee instead. She wasn't quite as into me after that.

Things grew increasingly awkward as she sat at the kitchen table and waited for her friend to emerge while I straightened up, washed some dishes, and did anything I could to avoid sitting down with her.

It wasn't too much longer before the sound of a female's voice carried down the hall from Emmett's room. I couldn't make out exactly what was being said, but I did hear a very clear and distinct _asshole. _Shortly after, his door flew opened, and a tall, hung-over redhead marched down the short hallway into the kitchen.

"Let's go, Jane," she snapped.

Emmett followed her out of the bedroom, holding a ball cap over his junk. He must've pissed her off mid-fuck, and I shuddered at the sight of his ugly, naked ass. My stomach was not prepared for that shit.

"Baby, don't go. Please! It was an accident," he pleaded.

"Right, you _accidently_ don't remember my name. Fuck off, creep," she said, grabbing her purse and storming out the front door. The girl called Jane glared at me and took off after her friend.

When the door slammed shut, Emmett sighed, scratched his ass, and went back into his room while I downed a few aspirin with some orange juice straight from the carton. I attempted to watch TV for a while, but there was nothing on, and that's when I decided to come out here and get some fresh air.

The breeze is warm and salty, and the sun is shining brightly off the water. My eyes and head can hardly stand the intensity, but I force myself to endure it as punishment after the disaster I put myself through last night. Sipping my strong, dark elixir, I scan the beach. Music is playing from somewhere nearby, and a handful of people are out enjoying the morning, including a small group playing volleyball in the distance and what looks to be two women at the property next to ours lounging in a cabana. They have the shade pulled up, and all I can see poking out are two pairs of legs.

Two very _beautiful_ pairs of legs.

Emmett interrupts my musing and takes the seat adjacent to me; thankfully, he had the good grace to put on a robe. He looks at me and shakes his head with a chuckle. "Man, last night . . ."

"Was a disaster," I finish for him and take another large drink of coffee just thinking about it.

"Disaster? Dude, were you there? Did you _see_ that girl? She was smoking hot."

I choose to ignore him, refusing to go down this path right now.

We sit in silence, and for a few brief moments, all is calm. Good music is traveling through the air, and I actually take the time to enjoy my surroundings.

"So . . . how was the friend?" Emmett asks, and I rub my temples with a growl. His eyebrows shoot to his forehead, claiming innocence. "_What?_"

"Emmett, I never want to have to answer that question again in my life. I'm tired of this shit—all of it. The friend was horrible. The entire _night_ was horrible." The pain in my head forces me to take it down a notch, and I wince as the blood pulses behind my eyes. "I can't be doomed to spend the rest of my life as your wingman. There's got to be something better out there."

Emmett snorts. "Like what? What do you want, a girlfriend?" He laughs, but his smile falls when I fail to respond. "Wait, really?"

"No. I don't know. Maybe . . ." I don't know what the hell I'm trying to say any more than Emmett does, but I continue anyway. "I just want something more than cheap fucks with random girls. It'd be nice to care about the person for once, you know? It'd be even nicer for someone to actually give a fuck about me, too." Emmett is looking at me as if I just told him I was a hermaphrodite, and I shake my head. "Forget it. I don't know what I'm saying. It's the hangover talking."

Sometimes, I think teaching quantum physics to a circus chimp would be easier than having a meaningful conversation with Em. How the hell he managed to pass the MCAT and make it into medical school is something I'll never understand.

He wants to be a gynecologist. Go figure.

"No, no, I get it. I guess I didn't realize you were ready for all that again. I mean, after Tanya, I never thought—"

"Yeah, I know," I say, cutting him off before the mention of my ex can make this migraine any worse than it already is. "I didn't know I was ready, either, but I am. It's just . . . this lifestyle isn't for me, Em. It never has been."

"Yeah, we had a good run, but you're no lifer. You gave it a hell of a shot, buddy. I give you an A for effort," he says, making me laugh despite myself. Emmett places a big hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, E. You're gonna find someone great; you'll see. And you don't have to be my wingman anymore if you don't want to. I don't know how the hell I'll ever replace you, though. You're just so damn good at it," he says, and we laugh again.

"Thanks for understanding," I say, and now that I'm off the hook as Emmett's fellow man-whore, I feel lighter than I have in years.

Much to my surprise, he lets it go after that and stretches out in his seat with his hands behind his head. I'm beginning to think maybe I've been underestimating Emmett's moral capacity, but before I can blink, he's on his feet again.

"Whoa, legs, ten o'clock!" He turns to me, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Excellent, we have neighbors."

"No," I say flatly.

"No, what?"

"Forget it, Emmett. We are not banging the neighbors."

"You don't have to do anything. I'll just go over there and—"

"Not happening. I'm making it a rule right now."

Emmett crosses his arms. "A rule? There are no _rules_ here. Why can't we bang the neighbors?"

"Because, the next morning, after they've figured out that they hate us, they aren't just going to jump into a car and drive away. They'll be walking twenty feet to the left, and I, for one, don't want to spend the rest of my vacation avoiding the beach. I mean it. _No banging the neighbors_."

"But what if they don't hate us in the morning this time?"

"They always hate us in the morning, Em," I mutter, completely drained. Distracted by the fairer sex, whatever moment of clarity Emmett was displaying earlier is long gone.

He thinks about it for a moment longer and then scowls because he knows I'm right. "Seriously, Edward, you could ruin a wet dream."

00000

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading! I love reading your reviews, so keep 'em coming! Now, don't worry. I'm sure everyone can guess whose legs Ed and Em were staring at, and in the next chapter, everyone will finally figure out who their neighbors are. Stay tuned to see how it all goes down!

Big thanks to Fran for betaing, and I can't wait to see you all next week!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Twilight

Chapter 5

BPOV

I open my eyes when a couple of screaming, wet kids run by. I must've passed out after too many hours of Corona-induced cackling with Rose. Rubbing my eyes, I sit up, and Rose smiles at me as she rubs another layer of tanning oil on her legs.

"Welcome back. I kept the shade up so you wouldn't burn. It's a good thing you were able to get some rest; you're gonna need your energy. It's almost time to start getting ready," she says with a wicked smile.

I grab a bottle of water from the cooler and down half of it in a couple gulps. Panting, I wipe my mouth with my arm. "Ready for what?"

"For some fun. The two of us are going out tonight, and it's going to be legendary."

_Oh, Jesus_.

Going out with Rose is great . . . when she's in a relationship. She's funny, coherent, and the life of the party. When she's single, however, she tends to get a little drunker and a lot sluttier.

Rosalie Hale turns every head in the bar no matter where we are. They're all dogs—all of them—and she takes her pick of the litter every time. I've seen it a hundred times over. She takes one home, has her fun, and once Mr. Right Now has had his fill, he bails, and I end up spending the rest of the night taking care of drunken Rosalie.

I love her. I _really_ do.

We discuss our options for the night and make a plan. Pensacola isn't exactly Partyville, USA, but compared to Forks, it might as well be Rio. Rose saw a spot on the way in yesterday she wants to go to, and if we don't end up liking the atmosphere, there are three other bars within walking distance.

Gathering our things, Rose and I pack up and head back to the house. After spending all day in the sun, I'm tired and famished, but something inside me is fully sated. I feel happier and more relaxed than I have in a really long time. I'm actually looking forward to the night ahead, and that's unusual for me. Who knows? Maybe I'll meet a suitable Mr. Right Now and have a little fun of my own.

Boy, paradise really suits my mood.

We put in some serious time getting ready, with only one battle to speak of when Rose tries to put one of her crazy, skin-tight contraptions on me. Those kinds of dresses look great on her, but they're just not me. Instead, I settle on a navy tank top, faded jean skirt, and flip flops. After slapping on some makeup and forcing my hair into sleek submission, I wait an additional forty minutes for Rose to finish her transformation.

"Rosalie, if you don't get your tan, fabulous ass out here in exactly two minutes, I'm leaving without you," I call out, pulling back the curtain and gazing out the window as the sun sinks lower in the sky. Two guys are throwing a Frisbee back and forth, and I smile when the big one dives head-first into the sand to make an impossible catch. They look about our age, but it's too far to really be sure.

"Coming," Rose sings, sashaying her way into the room. "How do I look?" she asks, and then huffs when I ignore her in favor of watching the two beach boys play catch.

She joins me at the window with a hum of approval when she sees what's captured my attention. "I see you've already got your guy-goggles on, and for once, they appear to be working."

Her words fall on deaf ears as I stare at them. Something about those two seems oddly familiar, but I can't put my finger on what.

"Oh. My. _God_. No freaking way! Do you know who those guys are?" she asks, pressing her face to the glass, using her hands as a visor.

I squint harder to see them in the ever-fading light. "No, do we know them?"

"Those are the two guys we saw on the way in yesterday, remember? The tall, skinny dude was getting a blowjob from the beefy one!"

"What? No way," I say, but as I shield my own eyes, everything clicks into place. _That's_ why they seem familiar. "Oh, shit, it is them," I murmur, completely shocked but also a little deflated. Leave it to me to hone in on the only two guys around who are absolutely off limits to us. This is not the first time it's happened.

"As usual, it looks like you had your goggles set on gaydar. Hey, do you think they're staying around here? Let's go introduce ourselves and see if they'll have a drink with us."

"Are you high? Don't you think it will be just a _little_ awkward after what we witnessed yesterday? I don't want to embarrass them any more than we already have, Rose. Let's just go and leave those poor men alone," I tell her, turning away from the window once and for all.

Rosalie will not hear of it. "Oh, come on. We'll explain who we are, apologize for laughing at them, and offer to buy the first couple rounds. It's the nice thing to do, and I'm sure they're decent guys," she says, and before I can argue, she's pulling me out the back door.

We trudge through the sand, and when the big one throws the Frisbee again, it sails wide and lands at our feet. Rose picks it up, twirling it around her finger. "Hello, boys," she says with a wide grin once they notice us. "Remember us?"

Recognition dawns on both their faces at the same time.

The skinny one—who's much taller than I'd imagined—is staring right at me, frozen with shock, while the big one is staring at Rose, his eyes as big as the Frisbee she's still holding.

I knew this was a bad idea.

"So," she says when neither of them speaks. "We're about to go to get some drinks. We'd love for you to come along and give us the chance to make up for being assholes yesterday."

A full twenty seconds pass, and neither of the two has moved a muscle. I glance down at my feet with a red face that has nothing to do with the amount of sun I got today. Why couldn't we just let them be?

The big one finally shakes himself out of his stupor and nudges his partner. "How bizarre is this? We never expected to see you two again," he says, laughing heartily as he extends his hand to first Rose, then me. "I'm Emmett, and this is Edward. Whoa . . ." he says again, shaking his head in astonishment.

"It's nice to meet you Emmett, Edward," Rose says, shaking Emmett's hand again with a giggle when he offers it a second time. With her other hand, she waves at Edward, who's still dead in his shoes.

Poor guy. He must be so embarrassed.

"I'm Rosalie, and this is my very best friend, Bella," she says and turns to me with a wink. "Small world, right?"

"Yeah, no kidding," I say with a shy—almost apologetic—smile as I briefly meet Edward's eyes. When Emmett elbows him hard in the ribs, he finally comes to life.

Sort of.

"Huh, what? I mean, hi, yeah. What? Sorry—"

His consternation makes me blush again, and just like yesterday, before Emmett crawled out of his lap and ruined my game, I notice that Edward's eyes are the coolest shade of green I've ever seen. They almost glow in the soft, purple twilight surrounding us.

"So, drinks, huh? Where are you ladies headed?" Emmett asks. He still hasn't taken his eyes from Rose . . . or let go of her hand.

She glances at Edward and slyly removes her hand from Emmett's to play with her hair. "The bar that's in the plaza right when you get into town. Sharky's, I think it's called."

Edward shakes his head as he and Emmett share a loaded look, and Emmett clears his throat. "Yeah, I don't know about Sharky's. We were there last night, and it's kind of a dive. What about that place on the opposite side of town, Peg Leg Pete's or whatever. We could all meet there?"

"Oh . . . well, sure, I guess that'd be fine," Rose says with a smile and a shrug. She turns to me, excitement brewing in her deep blue eyes. "Sound good to you, Bella?"

"Sure, yeah, whatever you guys want."

"I like your attitude, Bella," Emmett says with a devilish grin, ignoring his partner.

I can't help but notice how uneasy Edward looks. He looks between me and Rose before shooting Emmett another glare as Rosalie giggles at him yet again, and I narrow my own eyes. I know that giggle. That's Rose's patented 'we're totally going to bone tonight' giggle. What the actual fuck is wrong with her? Why is she flirting with a guy who's not only gay, but obviously taken? I swear, the girl has no shame.

"Peg Leg Pete's it is, then. Why don't you boys go get cleaned up, and we'll head over and grab a booth," Rose says.

After a round of goodbyes, we part ways, and a short drive later, Rose and I are in the loud, dimly lit bar that offers a heavy nautical theme. Fishing nets, life rafts, and plastic lobsters are stuck all over the walls, and the jukebox is playing Jimmy Buffett at a deafening volume_. _While we wait for our drinks at the bar, I take a look around at the other patrons. The clientele appears to be mostly after-hours businessmen in tacky Hawaiian shirts and busted women who look like they've seen the backseats of too many rental cars.

Once we're noticed, the wayward salesmen begin to circle like sharks. Obviously showing off for his buddies, one guy—whose tropical attire is particularly garish—swaggers up to Rosalie. Before he can even open his mouth and ask to buy her a drink, she shoots him down with a single, icy glare. He walks dejectedly away from us and proceeds to get razzed by his friends.

Rose turns to me, beers in hand, and has to shout over the music. "Let's grab a booth in the back before they're all taken." We make our way through the feeding frenzy, careful not to make eye-contact with anyone else.

There's a quieter spot in the corner, away from the blaring speakers, and I take a few long drinks of my Pacifico, hoping the Mexican brew will calm the mild anxiety I have about meeting the two men we humiliated yesterday. Or maybe the anxiety is due to the piercing emerald hue of Edward's stare.

_Shut up, Bella, he's not available. _

_Totally off limits_.

Damn, my bad luck.

V

EPOV

_Shit. Fuck. Damn. _

_Fuck again. _

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what I thought was a mirage walking toward us on the beach. She certainly looked like a mirage—a hallucination, induced by the heat of the blazing Florida sun, with her beautiful hair surrounding her beautiful face.

And those _legs._ . . .

But it was no trick of the mind. It was really her.

Bella. _Beautiful. _

I couldn't have picked a more apt name if I'd been the one in charge of labeling such an exquisite example of the female sex. In theory, I should be happy, ecstatic even, to be on my way to see her now, but in reality, I'm terrified. I'm not good with women. I mean, I'm not _bad _with women, but I'm not great with the whole _starting conversation and making myself appear interesting and worthy_ thing.

Especially, not when I'm sober.

Drinking has always made the process easier for me, but I'm still hungover from last night's fiasco, and the mere thought of alcohol is enough to make my sensitive stomach churn.

Oh, but wait. It gets better.

Not only will I be spending the entire evening with the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on _sober_, I'll also be gay. Yeah, Em and I forgot to clear up that little misunderstanding earlier on the beach, so now we get to kick things off tonight with the awkward explanation of our heterosexuality.

They're going to think we're total jackoffs.

Standing at my closet earlier, I felt like a fifteen-year-old girl, deciding what to wear on the first day of school. Eventually, I settled on my old standard—jeans and a T-shirt. It'll show her what I'm working with without looking like I'm trying too hard.

Truthfully, I don't know why I'm freaking out so much. I certainly don't expect to hook up with Bella tonight—hell, I don't even expect her to _like _my sorry ass—but at least I won't look like a total shitbag later on when they eventually tell us to take a hike.

As we wind through the palm-flanked streets, Emmett is cool as a cucumber in the passenger seat.

The jerk.

He can't get over his own good fortune and fully expects that by the end of the night, despite my very clear feelings on the matter, he and _whatshername _will be joined together in a sexual collaboration of epic proportions.

God, I hope I'm asleep before the debauchery ensues.

Maybe I'll just camp out on the beach tonight.

00000

Hey there! Thanks for reading, everyone! Stay tuned to find out if Emmett's evening works out as planned and where Edward's insecurities land him with Bella. Of course, first thing's first. They've got to get that awkward conversation out of the way before they can do anything.

Huge thanks to my beta, Fran! Take care, ladies!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own Twilight.

Chapter 6

EPOV

"Are you ready for this, Eddie boy?" Emmett asks as I pull into an open parking spot and put my baby into neutral before killing the engine.

I'm not.

I couldn't be _less_ ready for this.

Bella is going to think I'm such a tool when she finds out I'm not really gay. Especially when we had the chance to clear it up earlier but didn't. Oh well, we're here now, and there's no turning back.

Time to suck it up and take the plunge.

"Yeah, let's go," I say, getting out of the car. Looking up at the night sky, the blanket of stars takes my breath away. We never get to see a display like this in Cincinnati, and its beauty is reminiscent of Bella—timeless, transcendent . . . awe-inspiring.

I trail behind Emmett as we make our way into Peg Leg Pete's, muttering a quick prayer to the universe that the night ahead is incident free—that I don't end up tossing my cookies in front of Bella out of sheer anxiety, or trip and fall on her, breaking her arm, or something equally ridiculous yet catastrophic. Most people don't have to worry about such things, but I am not most people. My luck happens to suck much harder than the average Joe's, and none of the above is outside the realm of possibility for Edward A. Cullen.

Scanning the bar, I don't see Bella or Rosalie anywhere, and I can feel the sting of disappointment, even though it's probably for the best.

"I don't see them anywhere, Em. Maybe we should just go," I say.

Emmett glances at me over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. "We just got here. Rosalie said they would be in a booth, so let's look there."

He leads us away from the bar toward the back of the restaurant, and we round a corner. As soon as I lay eyes on her, time slows down. It's just like one of those lame scenes in every clichéd romantic comedy ever made. Everything moves in slow motion and sweeping violin music begins to play from nowhere. She's just as beautiful under the harsh florescent lights as she was earlier, standing in the fading light of the falling sun.

Before we get close enough to catch their attention, Emmett spins on his heel to face me. "Yo, how's my breath?" he asks, and suddenly, I'm trapped in the hot, humid gust of a Funyon-scented nightmare.

"Dude!" I cover my nose and close my eyes, waiting for the bile to make its way back down my esophagus.

"Do I need gum?"

"For the love of God, yes," I say, accepting a piece when Emmett pulls a fresh pack of Dentine out of his pocket.

We make our way through the narrow aisle to their booth, and when they still fail to notice us, Emmett clears his throat. "Pardon me, ladies, are we interrupting?"

Both girls beam up at us. "No, we were just waiting for a couple of handsome men to join us. Have a seat," Rosalie says, scooting out of her side of the booth and sliding in next to Bella, obviously intending for Emmett and me to share the seat across from them.

We slide into the booth, and I smile at the brunette beauty directly across from me. "Hi again," I say, feeling extra bashful.

"Hey," she replies, and I revel in the friendly glow in her eyes.

"I, uh, I'd like to apologize for earlier. I was a little tongue-tied when we saw you on the beach. Can we just start over?"

Bella graces me with a genuine, full-blown smile, and I absolutely melt. Like, literally, my ass is now fused to the green vinyl booth.

"I think that's a great idea. I know it was a bit awkward, but if anyone should apologize for that, it's us," she says, looking to her friend for confirmation.

Rosalie nods in return, her blue eyes wide and serious. "Absolutely. We never should've teased you the way we did. I swear we're not homophobic, just a little immature sometimes."

"Actually, about that—" I begin, but Bella ignores my attempt to cut in as she continues where Rosalie left off.

"We're so sorry. We'd been cooped up in the car way too long. At that point, we would've taken it out on Mother Teresa given the chance."

"Really, it's fine. This is all a huge mis—" Emmett begins, and this time, it's blondie who interrupts.

"No, it's _not _fine. That's why we asked you here; we want to make amends. When we saw you on the beach earlier, we figured you must be staying nearby, and if that's the case, we definitely don't want you to spend the next two weeks avoiding us. Please, let us buy you a couple of drinks. It's the least we can do."

As I open my mouth to set the record straight yet again, a waitress appears, as if on cue, with her pen and notepad at the ready.

"What can I get for you two," she asks, looking at Emmett and me, making no effort to mask her flirtatious smile or her googly eyes.

"I'll have a Blue Moon," I say with a sigh, though the thought of beer is already making my stomach turn. Maybe, if I ease myself into it, I can at least get a decent buzz going.

The waitress jots down my order and leans down, practically shoving her breasts in Emmett's face. "And what about you, sailor?"

Bella looks at me, eyebrows raised, and mouths '_sailor?_'

I have to pretend to cough to muffle the snort that threatens to escape.

"Just a Corona, thanks," Emmett says, not even glancing at her.

When the waitress rests her hand on Em's shoulder to ask the girls if they're ready for a refill, Rosalie wastes no time enlightening the poor girl.

"Yes, we are, but let me clear something up for you, _Trish_, is it? These two guys, while incredibly handsome, are as gay as the day is long, so please stop molesting my friend because it's never going to happen, got it?"

Bella closes her eyes and rubs her forehead—apparently, Rosalie's behavior is nothing new to her—as Em and I share an amused look.

When the waitress affirms that she indeed 'gets it', Rose rewards her with a pleased smile. "Good. Now, if you'll just put their drinks on our tab, we'll be taking care of them tonight." Both Emmett and I begin to protest, but when Rosalie gives us a rather terrifying warning look, we shut our mouths and let her finish. "And we'll also take a round of Hendricks with our beers. Oh, and please leave the bottle caps on. We'll take them off ourselves. Thanks, dear."

We watch in amazement as the waitress, freshly put in her place, quickly retreats to undoubtedly expedite our order.

"Wow," Emmett breathes, utterly swept away by her brand of sass. "That was awesome, Rose. Can I call you Rose? That was amazing."

Rose gives him a wink. "Sailor, you can call me whatever you like."

At that, Bella nearly chokes on her beer, the bottle still pressed to her lips. She elbows Rose and wipes her mouth, looking at me with a thousand apologies in her gorgeous brown eyes. "You'll have to excuse her. I think she got a little too much sun today," she says, glaring at the brazen girl.

Rosalie merely shrugs and finishes off the last of her beer. I think now is the perfect time to address the huge, gay elephant in the room and get him out of the way once and for all.

"Actually, there's something we need to tell you," I begin, looking at Emmett. He nods in encouragement.

"What is it?" Bella asks, and I can't help but feel like a slimy creep as I stare into her eyes. It's as if I've been lying to her on purpose and I'm about to let her down or something. I know it's irrational, but nevertheless.

"Well—" I begin, but once again, the waitress appears just in time to interrupt me, passing out our order and placing a bottle opener in the middle of the table before scurrying away.

Emmett wrinkles his brow, highly confused. "Okay, I give up. Why did you tell her to leave our bottles unopened?"

Rose chuckles, picking up the bottle opener and flipping the top off her bottle of Pacifico. "Were you just here? I was a total cunt to that poor girl. Who knows what goes on back there; I didn't want any of us to have a surprise loogie in our bottles. The shots are fine; it's easy to see that they're clean," she says, sliding the opener to Emmett.

"Shit, that's smart. Isn't that smart, Edward?"

"Yeah, brilliant," I say as any nerve I had about coming clean slips away.

"Let's make a toast," Rose says, holding up her shot glass. "To new friends and second chances. And to—"

"Wait a minute, Rose. Don't be rude," Bella says, looking at me again with unspoken apologies. She reaches across the table and rests her fingers on my splayed hand. "I'm sorry, Edward. What were you trying to say before?"

"Sorry," Rose mutters, but I hardly notice.

I'm still reeling from Bella's touch and the warmth that begins to spread up my arm.

And in my pants.

I snap out of it when Emmett throws an elbow in my ribs. "Huh? Oh, no, don't be sorry. It's no big deal. We just—well, you see—Emmett and I, we're not _together _like that. Not even close, actually."

Bella and Rose look at each other and then look at us, confusion plain as day on their perfect faces.

"I don't understand. Is this some sort of fling, then?" Bella asks, looking from me to Emmett and back again.

"Not exactly. We're not technically—"

"Out?" Rose says, finishing for me. What is _with_ this woman? "Oh, my gosh, I totally get it now. You're both in the closet and this is some kind of secret affair. Whoa, talk about kinky," she says, eyes alight with scandal.

Meanwhile, Bella is glaring daggers at her. "Rose," she hisses through clenched teeth.

Rosalie puts a hand up in defense. "Hey, I'm not judging anyone. I'm just glad the two of you can at least admit your feelings to yourselves and each other. Some people never do, and that's just heartbreaking. Honestly, though, you really shouldn't hide who you are. Think about how much happier you'll be once you're out and it's done."

Bella drops her head into her free hand and squeezes my fingers with the other. "Seriously, Rose, stop talking."

"What did I say?"

Jesus Christ on a Christmas tree, what the hell is happening here? I'm at a total loss right now, but thankfully, Em comes to the rescue.

"No, you don't understand. What Edward is trying to say but failing miserably is that we're not gay. _Period._"

As the news sinks in, both the girls' faces are struck somewhere between confusion and horror. Bella's eyes fall to our linked fingers and she snatches her hand away, her blush returning with a vengeance.

I feel like a schmuck.

"Are you guys fucking with us right now?" Rosalie asks, pinning us to the booth with her glower of suspicion.

"No, not at all," Emmett says quickly, desperate to rescue the situation. "We would never do that to you. I swear!"

Rose crosses her arms. She is not a happy camper. "What about in the car at the stoplight? _Clearly_, you were—"

I'm done with this. It's my turn to cut _her_ off. "Clearly, you don't know what you saw. You only presume to know," I say. Rosalie raises her eyebrows, surprised by my gumption, and I think, I _think_, I see a hint of a smile on Bella's face. "Emmett wasn't giving me head. He dropped something under my seat and was trying to find it," I say, glaring at Emmett, who smiles sheepishly, as I'm reminded of the pot. I return my gaze to Bella. "I'm so sorry if you feel we misled you, but that was never our intention. I promise we're not creepers just using this gay thing to try to get close to you, or anything like that. I would've explained earlier, but I was just so shocked to see you. I mean, what are the odds, right? Anyway, if you want us to leave, we understand. We'll go, and you won't see us again."

Bella leans back and cocks her head thoughtfully to the side, letting everything absorb. She and Rose share another long look, as we wait to find out our fate. Eventually, Bella shrugs, and Rosalie quirks a smile.

"I don't see why anyone needs to leave," Rose says, staring only at Emmett.

He smiles in return, and I can feel the relief coursing through me, as well.

"Really?" we both ask at the same time.

Bella laughs at us, her lovely, crooked smile coming out to play. "Yeah, well, as you said, we were the ones making assumptions. There's no reason we can't still be friends, right?"

_Oh, God, I think I'm in love._

"Right! Okay, great, I'm so glad that's out of the way," I say, still surfing the tidal wave of relief.

Bella smiles shyly and bites her bottom lip as her eyes slide to the placemat in front of her. I'd love to reach across the table and brush my thumb across that lip, but I'm fairly certain that would put me right back into the creeper category.

"Okay, now we really need to toast," Rose says and holds up her shot glass. As everyone else follows suit, I hold mine up, as well, weary of what the little glass of alcohol will do to my already weak stomach. "To second chances and new possibilities," she finishes, all the while gazing at Emmett.

Bella rolls her eyes and clinks her glass. "Cheers," she says, downing her shot without hesitation.

I don't want to look like a total vag, so I close my eyes and toss it back.

Ugh, that does not feel good.

So many things are going wrong inside me now.

Before I can excuse myself to go to the restroom and regurgitate the poison, I hear a very loud, very deep voice call my name. Glancing up, I see a man so tall, his head all but skims the ceiling, and behind him is that fucking blonde mistake from last night, Jane.

_Shit on me._

"Oh, fuck," Emmett says under his breath as I attempt to hide my face behind a menu. It's too late. Jane points me out to the behemoth, and he crosses the room in three enormous strides.

Stopping all of six inches from our table, he towers over me. "You're Edward Cullen?"

Fuck, how did he get my last name? I must have told it to Jane last night in my drunken stupor.

"Yeah," I say, and my voice is an octave higher than normal. My stomach is still screaming in revolt from the Hendricks, and I swallow hard and clear my throat. "Um, yes, I'm . . . Edward Cullen."

"That's him, Felix. That's the asshole from last night," Jane says, her arms tightly crossed.

I peer at the girls, completely ashamed by the looks on their faces, and then back to Felix.

"So, you're the pervert who put his hands all over my sister?"

"Hey, I'm not a—" I stupidly begin before Felix the Abominable yanks me out of the booth by my collar and holds me up to his eye level. My feet dangle helplessly in the air.

"She's only eighteen, fucktard, did you know that?"

I shake my head vigorously, unable to make the words come out of my mouth. Though I can't see anything, I can hear Emmett mouthing off behind Felix. I can even feel his attempts to hit him and pull him off me, but it doesn't faze him. The guy is just too big, even for Em.

"Well, you should think twice before you take advantage of a young girl with no intentions of starting anything with her. How about I give you a reminder for next time?" he says, pulling his arm back.

I'm sweating, my mouth is watering, and just as Felix is about to give me his face-crushing "reminder," my stomach unleashes, and I projectile vomit all over his chest.

"What the fuck?" he roars, and I lift my head right in time to see a close-up of his giant fist seconds before it becomes one with my face.

Streaks of light and flashing stars shoot across my vision as he drops me to the ground where I crumple into a pile like a pathetic sack of shit. Once the ringing in my ears dulls to a high-pitched buzz, I can hear yelling from every direction. Among the scattered threats of calling the police and kicking more asses, Bella, Rose, and Em are gathered around me.

All I can see is Bella, and all I want to do is crawl away and die.

"Jesus, your eye," she says in a hushed, worried tone as she inspects the damage. She's only inches away from my face, and I almost get lost in her nearness before I remember that I'm assaulting her with fresh puke breath. Instead of recoiling at the sight and smell of me, though, Bella yells for Rose to get her a napkin and proceeds to tenderly wipe my face clean of blood and barf.

This girl is an angel. Also, I hate my life.

There's more yelling, and Bella turns and yells something vulgar in return before focusing on me again. "Look, we've got to get you out of here. Can you stand up?"

I nod but the pain in my head is excruciating, and I don't move a muscle. Emmett steps in and yanks me off the ground like a ragdoll, throwing my arm over his shoulder while Bella grabs my other arm, and together, they haul my sorry ass out of there.

Emmett helps me into the car and closes the door. I lay my head back and close my good eye, as the other one is so swollen I couldn't open it if I tried, and I can hear him talking to the girls outside.

"What do I do? Should I take him to the hospital?" he asks in a panic.

_No, just take me home, _I plead silently.

"I don't think that's necessary," Bella says. "Just bring him back to our place, and we'll get him cleaned up. We've got ice and bandages."

_No! Bad idea! No, no, no, no , no!_

"Okay, good idea. I'll follow you out," Em says, making his way around the car.

Goddamn my stupid, shitty, puke-stained luck.

00000

Thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing, and rec'ing this fic. I'm having an absolute blast writing it! Join me next week when we'll find out what else this rather unfortunate night has in store for Eddie and the gang.

Big bear hugs to my beta, Fran! She's peaches :)

Have a fabulous weekend, everyone!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	7. Chapter 7

I do not own Twilight

Chapter 7

BPOV

"Here, hold this against you eye. Jeez, I can't believe how fast it swelled," I say, handing Edward a wrapped, banana Twin Pop to hold against the baseball-sized knot on his face. I forgot we had used the entire bag of ice for our day in the sun, so I had to improvise.

Needless to say, our evening thus far has been quite eventful, especially when that big ape accused Edward of boinking his sister. And no one—at least not Rose or I—anticipated the attack that immediately followed said accusation. Whether or not it's true really doesn't matter, I guess. Can I really fault Edward for sewing his wild oats? He is a guy, after all.

I imagine he finds opportunities for random coitus on a daily basis. Hell, he's handsome enough and single, too, from what I can tell. So he enjoys casual sex. Maybe it's his thing. At least, it confirms his heterosexuality, which I was feeling dubious about before that Felix guy knocked him silly.

Edward places the impromptu ice pack on his face with a hiss. Wincing, he looks at me with his one, good eye. "I'm really sorry you had to witness that. I feel like such an asshole."

I merely shrug my shoulders. He certainly doesn't have to apologize or explain anything to me. "Does that happen often?" I ask with a smirk.

"No! God, no. I don't normally do stuff like that—hook up with strange girls, I mean. Well, not _that_ often. I'm not really into sex like that," he says, and then backpedals when I cock an eyebrow. "Don't get me wrong; I mean, I _love _sex . . . you know, with women."

I smile and pour myself a glass of wine. "Yes, I do know that now," I say, grabbing a bottle of water for Edward.

"Jesus, I'm an idiot," he mumbles to himself. "What I mean is . . . sometimes, I let myself get influenced by the, uh . . . _wrong people_." His narrowed eyes slide to Emmett, who's seated in the living room with Rose.

"Not my fault," Emmett calls back without taking his attention from the deck of cards he unearthed from God-knows-where.

Edward sighs, blowing a wayward strand of bronze hair out of his vision. "I guess that makes me sound like some kind of jerk who can't think for himself, but I swear, I'm not. I don't know; I just always seem to find myself in the most heinous of situations when we go out, know what I mean?" he asks and then shakes his head, muttering that I couldn't possibly know what he means.

I stare into the living room at Rosalie from our station at the kitchen counter, watching her pour shots of something dangerous for Emmett and herself. As she inches closer and closer to him on the couch, I think of all the terrible nights I've had because of that girl, all the trouble we've been in.

"I think I know exactly what you're talking about."

_Minus the billions of one-night-stands, of course._

Now that we're somewhat situated—Edward with his Twin Pop and bottle of water and me with my wine—we head into the living room to join Rose and Emmett around the large coffee table. Rosalie has taken the cards from Em and is shuffling them like a pro.

"Can you believe these two?" she asks, glancing at Emmett. "Blaming _us _for their own bad luck. Just saying."

"Well, you do happen to be the reason for ninety percent of it," I tell her with a wry smile. "Just saying."

Emmett scoffs. "I don't believe that for a second," he says, encouraging Rose to flip me off for good measure. "And Edward is a big boy. He's perfectly capable of making his own decisions."

Edward removes the popsicle to give Emmett a clear view of the destruction. "Yeah, you think I'd have learned that by now."

"Ditto," I say, and Edward and I share a smile.

"Ooh, Bella, look what Emmett brought over!" Rose says, holding up what I gather is a joint.

"Fucking seriously, Emmett?" Edward is incredulous. In fact, he looks about ready to pounce.

The eye roll Emmett gives him in return tells me this is an ongoing source of contention between them, and the last thing I want is another fight.

"Hey, it's all right. No biggie," I say, hoping to plug the hole. "Honestly, I haven't even _seen _marijuana since high school, but whatever. It's all good."

Rose squeals. "Exactly. Why the hell not, right?" she asks, lighting the end of the thing with a green Bic.

"Fucking fabulous," Edward mutters more to himself than anyone else, though he's still glaring at Emmett.

Emmett ignores him and announces that we'll be playing Black Jack for pennies. After the rules have been thoroughly explained to me, Rose and I gather all the loose change between us, divide it up, and we begin. By the second round, I've already found my groove, and the more times that joint makes its way around the circle, the more I begin to relax in the company of the guys.

Actually, I'm having a great time. I think we all are, even Edward. Despite his battle wound and his reservations about recreational drug use, he's talking and laughing, trading playful insults with his buddy. I like these boys a lot. Emmett and Edward are easy to be around. There are no uncomfortable stretches of silence or awkward lags in conversation. Hanging out with them feels natural, as if we've been doing it all along.

Our aimless topics of conversation range from anything to everything. From travel to movies to breakfast cereal and beyond, we don't delve too deeply into any one thing or spend too much time on any given subject.

I kind of dig it.

While I'd love to know every little thing there is to know about Edward Cullen, this feels right for our situation. After all, we're virtual strangers who just so happen to be sharing a property line for the duration of our stay. We have a week and a half left here in paradise, and when our ten days are up, we'll never see Edward or Emmett again. Rose and I will head home, and the guys will carry on with their own walks of life.

This will all be nothing more than a very pleasant memory.

I'm not the only one who's noticed the lack of information being divulged. Everyone else has picked up on it as well, so we officially decide to make it our thing. The four of us will spend our time together as we see fit, but we'll share no specifics—nothing too personal. As a group, we agree it just isn't necessary.

For instance, as far as background information goes, we know Edward and Emmett are from the Midwest, have just graduated college, and will be starting medical school in the fall. Likewise, the guys know Rosalie and I are from the West Coast and that we'll be starting grad school this year, but there's no mention of hometowns—no universities or alma matters.

Easy breezy.

Because who really cares about that junk, anyway? Actually, the ambiguity is kind of liberating. It leaves so much to the imagination, and I find the air of mystery surrounding this group of random twenty-somethings from different walks of life to be rather . . . _titillating_.

We're also super stoned, so there's that.

By the end of the night, I'm getting pretty good at this whole gambling thing, and when I flip my cards over to reveal yet another perfect Black Jack, everyone groans. Well, everyone but Edward. He gives me a fist bump, instead.

I think I really like him, despite his vast collection of bed buddies.

"Seriously? That's like four times now!" Emmett says, standing up and slapping his cards on the table. "I'm done. You cleaned me out, Bells."

I smile up at him in triumph. No one but my dad has called me anything but Bella or Isabella since grade school, and I like the way it feels. It's like we're old pals.

"Don't get too upset, Em; it was their money to begin with," Edward says, gathering the cards and straightening the deck. Instead of dealing again, he slides them into the box, and no one protests. "Shit, is it really three in the morning?"

"No, way!" Rose says, grabbing Emmett's muscly arm to check the watch on his wrist.

Another signature move . . .

I drain my last glass of wine and stand up, stretching my back. "It feels like we just got back from the bar. Do you guys want something to eat?" I ask, but I can hardly keep my eyes open. I didn't realize how tired I was until I actually stopped to think about it.

Edward smiles at me, his swollen eye already starting to bruise. He's going to feel like shit tomorrow.

I should bring him some Advil in the morning.

"No, but thank you. I think we've ruined enough of your evening so far. We should get out of here so you can get some sleep. You look like you could fall asleep standing up," he says, placing a hand on my elbow to keep me steady when I begin to sway.

"Yeah, I probably could," I say with a sleepy smile. We both look across the room to see Emmett and Rose standing at the sliding glass door. They're only inches apart, and though their goodbye appears PG, Rose's expression is nothing short of wanton.

Edward looks at me again, and we both blush and stare at our shoes. "Well, thanks for everything—for taking care of me and being so cool about what happened earlier. Again, I'm so sorry you—"

I put a hand on his chest to stop him. "I'm glad we got a chance to hang out tonight. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other soon," I say, glancing at Rose and Emmett, who are just parting ways. Wow, and no kiss, either. She must _really_ like him.

"I hope so," he says, blushing anew. "Okay, well, sleep tight, Bella."

And with that, Edward turns and walks out of our bungalow, my heart trailing lazily behind him.

00000

Thanks for reading! And thank you for all the love and support you've shown me. I created a banner for the story, which some of you may have seen on Fran's FB page. Isn't Emmett just yummy? Someday, I'll create my own page so I can join in on all the fandom fun.

Huge hugs to Fran for betaing this thing. I hope your own upcoming vacation is nothing short of wonderful :)

Have a fabulous weekend, everyone! See you next time!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	8. Chapter 8

I do not own Twilight.

Chapter 8

EPOV

_This is bad. This is really, really bad_.

My mug is completely jacked up, and my eye looks like a huge, purple meatball. I look like some kind of stupid, punk kid from the streets. Someone Bella would never look twice at…

"Hurry up, Ward-o. It's almost time to leave, and I still need to shower," Emmett calls from the other side of the bathroom door.

I secure a towel around my waist, take one last look at my sorry ass, and unlock the door. "It's all yours."

"Thanks, bro," Emmett says, strolling past me, naked as the day he was born.

_Could've done without that_.

As I make my way to my room to get dressed, my thoughts automatically wander to Bella. Despite getting punched in the face by Sasquatch and despite the throbbing pain of the planet that is now on my face, last night was one of the best nights I've had all year. Spending time with Bella, getting to sit next to her and look at her all night long, seeing her smile, and hearing her laugh ended up being a better painkiller than anything a doctor could prescribe. She's beautiful, of course, but she's also witty, intelligent, and so much cooler than me.

Even though it was Bella's idea to go back to their place after the 'incident,' I still couldn't help feeling unsure about how she really felt about me. I thought about this all night, tossing and turning in my bed.

Is she genuinely interested in me, or does she merely feel sorry for me because of what happened? Turns out, I was worried for nothing.

When she came knocking on our door this morning with some Advil and a cup of steaming hot coffee from the place around the corner, I knew her feelings were more than just pity. Christ, she looked amazing, too, standing at our door in a little yellow sundress. She came over just to see how I was feeling, and although she couldn't stay, she did ask if Emmett and I would be interested in joining them on a sunset dolphin cruise this evening.

I was so excited I practically screamed 'yes' right at her, but Bella only laughed. She said that she and Rosalie were going to do a little shopping and they'd be back here to meet us at six so we could get a bite to eat before the cruise.

It's now 5:45, and I'm a goddam mess.

My palms are sweating as I once again stand in front of the closet trying to figure out how to present myself to her. All I know is I need to look as least like a punk kid as possible tonight. Yanking the towel from around my waist, I pull on a clean pair of boxer briefs along with the only pair of 'nice' jeans I packed.

"Hey, can I come in?" Emmett knocks but doesn't wait for my response before barging into my room, dripping wet and still in his birthday suit.

"_Seriously_?" I yell and shield my eyes. I think I've seen enough of Emmett's junk today to last three lifetimes.

"Sorry, but I ran out of underwear. Can I borrow a pair of yours?"

_What?_

"We've been here all of forty-eight hours, Emmett. How the hell did you run out of underwear already?"

"I guess I forgot to pack them. Hey, what about these?" he asks, holding up an expensive pair of Calvin Kleins, and I snatch them out of his hand.

"Hell, no. My supply is limited, too, and there's no way I'm letting you shart all over my good underwear. You can go get your own tomorrow at Walmart or something."

"Well, what am I supposed to do tonight?

I shrug and give him a smirk. "I don't know. Use caution when you zip your fly, I guess?"

"You're a dick. Ooh, what's this?" Emmett asks, helping himself to my nearly-empty bottle of Armani.

"Will you get out of here already and go get dressed? The girls are going to be here any—" Before I can finish my sentence, there's a knock at the door. "_Shit!_ I'm only half-ready, what do we do?"

"Well, you can start by answering the door. In case you haven't noticed, I'm naked. Oh, and my pants are in the dryer. Will you grab them while you're out there?"

"Shit," I say again under my breath, yanking a wife-beater over my head and attempting to smooth down my hair as I head for the sliding glass door. When I open it and see the girls, the world shifts on its axis just a little bit. Rose is beautiful in a typical blonde, hot chick sort of way, but Bella . . .

There are no words for her startling, yet vastly understated perfection.

"Hi," I say, breathless at the sight of her.

Bella's eyes fall to my chest, her mouth slightly agape, and I feel like a tool when I remember I'm not exactly dressed. Wearing nothing but a wife beater and jeans, I'm pretty much the definition of punk idiot right now.

Rose looks at Bella and then at me, breaking into a wide smile. "Hey, looking good. Doesn't he look good, B?" she asks, pulling Bella back from wherever she was.

I smile to myself, knowing she feels toward me at least a smidgen of what I feel when I see her.

"Uh, yeah . . . I mean, yes, you look . . . good," she says, and I can see the blush crawling up her neck as she silently berates herself and her eyes fall to the ground.

"You look beautiful, Bella. Both of you do," I say, and as Bella's blush deepens, Rose gives me another winning smile.

"Thank you, Edward. I knew there was a reason I liked you. You guys ready?"

"Uh, almost. I just need to throw on a shirt, and Emmett—"

Just as I say his name, Rose's eyes go wide, and I glance over my shoulder to see Emmett streaking across the living room with his hands over his junk.

"Just getting my pants—don't mind me!" he shouts, prompting the girls to snicker at his idiocy.

I close my eyes and sigh. "Sorry about that. Come on in; we'll only be a couple minutes."

As I step aside to let the girls in, I notice that Bella is no longer the only one blushing, and this surprises me. Though I love and adore Bella's pink cheeks, I've already grown to expect it from her. But Rose doesn't strike me as the type to be easily embarrassed about anything.

_Interesting. _

"Make yourselves at home. We'll be right out," I say, gesturing to the couch. I turn and sprint back to my room, nearly colliding with Emmett, who's now jean-clad, streaking back across the bungalow toward his own room. I can hear the girls giggling some more.

It boggles my mind that they would even _want_ to hang out with us. We can't even get dressed without it turning into an absolute shit-show.

Back in my room, I yank the nearest button up out of the closet and throw it on. After running a comb and some product through my hair, I'm finally ready. I stuff my wallet into my back pocket, and Emmett and I step out of our rooms at the same time. He's fully dress this time, thank God.

"Hey," he says with a hand on my arm, his voice quiet and his eyes serious. "Good luck tonight, all right? You've got this."

"I've got what?" I ask, shrugging his hand off my shoulder. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You and Bella. She's totally into you, dude. You can totally phone this one in. And I'm pretty sure Rosalie—"

"Hey, hold on just a minute," I say with a finger in his face. He smacks it away. "I won't do this to them, Emmett. I don't _want_ to treat this like any other night out. I like Bella. A lot. I'm not _phone _anything in with her. And be careful with Rosalie. Don't do or say anything to piss her off; I mean it. Please, Emmett, don't ruin this for the both of us," I say, pleading for dear life. I can't let him ruin this one for me. I _won't._

"Relax, Edward. Jesus, I'm not going to 'mess' anything up for anyone. I like Rose just as much as you like Bella." When I give him a wry look, he shrugs. "You don't have to believe me; I really don't care what you think. All I'm saying is your _stupid_ rule about not banging the neighbors is _stupid_. You've got her if you want her, and it looks like you do. That's all. Now, let's go."

"_You're_ stupid," I mutter as I follow behind him.

"Your mom's stupid," he whispers back over his shoulder and then immediately turns on the charm. "Hey, ladies! Wow, you both look incredible! Who's ready to go see some dolphins?"

~~V~~

Two hours later, we're making our way through the Santa Rosa Sound on a sixty-three-foot catamaran, and I feel just like a kid at Christmas. Aside from the four of us, there are only a handful of other people on the boat, and the captain even lets Emmett and me take turns tightening the leech line to adjust the mainsail. During the first portion of the cruise, we're all too excited to sit down and relax. But after nearly an hour of exploring the boat and watching the dolphins jumping and playing and racing alongside us, Bella and I leave Rose and Em on the starboard side and take our complimentary drinks to the head of the boat.

The sun continues to set in spectacular fashion, leaving behind nearly every color of the rainbow in its wake, and Bella is just as much in awe of God's beauty, as I am of hers.

"It's so incredibly beautiful," she says, staring out at the open sea.

And as I stare at her, watching the reflection of the sun in her bottomless brown eyes, I can't help but agree. "Yes, you are." I don't realize my slip-up until Bella looks at me, first, with startled eyes, and then a shy smile. "I meant _it. It _is beautiful, not you. Dammit, wait! Not that I don't think you're beautiful, too, because you are! God, are you ever beautiful. Oh, crap, I'm making you really uncomfortable now. I'm so sorry. I tend to ramble when I'm nervous. Hey, here's a good idea: Why don't I shut the hell up for a while?" I say, rubbing my forehead.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Instead of losing interest the way any other beautiful woman would at this point, Bella smiles and shakes her head, grabbing my hand. She leads me to the nearest bench, and we have a seat.

"You don't have to be nervous around me, Edward," she says, pinning me with her gaze, looking straight into my soul. I swear her eyes—and her hand—are the only things keeping me from floating away.

"I don't?" I ask all cracking voice and sweaty palms.

Bella bites her bottom lip and shakes her head. I'm frozen in place as she leans in and ever so softly places a kiss on my lips. Before I can respond as I'd like, she gives me one last shy smile and turns back toward the sunset, leaning her head against my chest.

Unable to believe what just happened, unable to fathom what all this might mean, I put my arm around her warm, sun-kissed shoulders, securing her to my side where I now know she belongs.

As Bella watches the last of the sunset, I watch her, and just like that, I forget every little thing I thought I knew before this girl came into my life.

00000

As always, thank you for reading! And thanks to Fran for betaing. She's off on some fabulous vacation right now, and I hope she has an incredible, wonderful trip!

I hope all of you have a fun and SAFE Memorial Day weekend!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	9. Chapter 9

I do not own Twilight

Chapter 9

BPOV

"Can we please stop talking about this already?" I say, draining my umpteenth glass of cheap red wine. I've been drinking all day, mostly by myself. "All I want to do is drink, watch hot guys mutilating other hot guys, and just forget Edward Cullen exists for the rest of the night. Can we do that, please?"

Rose sighs. She's absolutely exasperated with me. I'd be offended if I weren't so exasperated with myself right now. "Yes, but not until I understand what the hell happened last night?"

"I told you nothing happened. Last night was great. Being on the ocean with Edward was more action that I've seen in months."

"But?" Rose implores, not in the least convinced that's the end of it.

Oh, how I wish it were.

Finally, I relent. "But … I don't know. I don't know what went wrong. I took you advice; I was open and flirty—forward even. I gave him every green light in the book, but at the end of the night, he … hesitated. Why did he hesitate, Rose?" I ask, looking up at Rose, hoping to find the answers written on her face.

Last night _was _great—absolutely amazing. Edward's arm around me, his hand wrapped around mine … it was all so perfect.

Until it wasn't.

When we got back to the beach house, I was dying for a goodnight kiss—something to follow up what I'd started back on the boat. I'd already made my move; it was time for Edward to make his. Rose and Em were off somewhere, making out in the bushes, which gave Edward the perfect opportunity to do something with the ball that was most definitely in his court.

But …

"Just tell me what happened. How exactly did Edward hesitate?"

I give her a desperate look, begging her not to make me go there, and she holds up her hands.

"I swear after you tell me, I'll drop it. We'll drink more wine, watch movies, and that will be the end of it. But if I'm going to help you, I need to know how he left things."

Considering Rosalie Hale has seen the very worst sides of me, I give in once again. "Okay, so, we were at the door. He gave me a long hug, and when he pulled back ever so slightly, I was expecting him to kiss me. I closed my eyes and waited for it, but …"

Rose pinches the bridge of her nose. "Jesus Christ, Bella, _what?_ What the hell happened?"

"He kissed my nose instead. My _nose, _Rosalie! What the fuck does that mean?" I can see her processing everything, trying to formulate some kind of answer, but I beat her to it. "I'll tell you what the fuck it means. It means he's not interested. He couldn't be _less _interested. He was probably so repulsed by my beaver teeth and Dumbo ears that he couldn't wait for the night to end so he could go to the bar and find someone decent to hook up with."

"Oh, for God's sake, Bella! Beaver teeth? Are you twelve?"

"It's true!" I say, draining my glass. I yank the huge box of wine I picked up earlier out of the fridge and bring the whole goddam thing with me into the living room.

Sometimes, a girl just needs to be alone with her box of wine.

"Don't be a moron. He's totally down for you; trust me," Rose says, crossing her arms.

I turn and glare at her with a bubble of dark laughter. "I already did that, remember? And thanks to you, I threw myself at someone who would rather fuck an eighteen-year-old whore than kiss me goodnight." Rose opens her mouth but I hold up the hand of silence. "This topic of conversation is closed for the night. Don't bring it up again."

"But—"

"I said good day, madam!" I shout. I'm way too drunk for any of this.

_Fuck it. _

Filling my glass from the plastic nozzle, I take a big drink and press play on the remote. Yes, this is what I need. Death, violence, destruction—a perfect metaphor for my perfectly rancid love life.

All right, so I'm sulking. Seriously, though, my _nose?_ How degrading …

From the corner of my blurry vision, I see Rose slink to the couch and carefully sit down. She holds up a glass, tapping her fingernail against it, as if to ask if I'm going to allow her a glass of wine, or if I'm going to throw another tantrum like an irrational seven-year-old.

I nod once, and she fills her cup.

We watch the movie in silence for a while before she feels it's safe enough to speak again. "Just so you know—," she begins in a quiet voice, her eyes on the screen, "—they didn't go out last night after we got home. Emmett told me they watched a movie and went to bed. He said Edward passed out with a smile on his face."

_Bullshit._

"On. The. Nose," I repeat slowly, too subdued by the wine at this point to conjure up another fit.

"I know, Bella, but what if he was being a gentleman?" I glare at her again, but she doesn't let me speak. "Emmett said he's never seen the guy this caught up before. Maybe he's just scared or something."

"Why the _hell _would Edward be scared of someone like me? _Me, _Rose? Nervous, maybe, but scared? No. Not scared. He's like, the epitome of all things hot and delicious. Have you seen him?"

"Have you seen _you_?"

I roll my eyes, and Rose takes my wine, setting our glasses on the coffee table.

"Hey!"

"B, I don't know why you haven't noticed by now how beautiful you are, but it's true. I would commit murder to be as naturally blessed as you are."

"Now who's ridiculous? You're stunning, Rose. Everyone from Neah Bay to the Columbia River Gorge knows it. _You _know it. Don't patronize me."

"I'm not patronizing you. Yeah, I'm beautiful, but at least I recognize it. And you know more than anyone else that this—" she circles her finger around her head "—doesn't just happen. It takes about two hours, four different kinds of leave-in conditioner, and _way _too much foundation. But you? You just roll out of bed, put on the grungiest clothes you can find, and still somehow manage to look … flawless," she finishes, looking down at her nails.

When she finally meets my eyes again, she shakes her head at my presumed stupidity. "The kind of beauty you possess … it's intimidating for some people. Maybe that's what Edward is afraid of—trying to attain something so perfect and failing."

I look at my own hands to hide the tears that inexplicably fill my eyes. "Rose, you've never … _no one's _ever said anything like that to me. Jesus," I murmur, wiping my nose on the sleeve of my old flannel shirt. "Do you really think Edward is afraid of something as shallow as beauty? I mean, he's the one who's so obviously beautiful, not me."

Rose cracks half a smile. "Well, that's the things about us obvious types. We tend to be the most insecure … and the most shallow," she says with a wink, adding, "Plus, you've got a resting bitch face that would intimidate Lucifer himself."

"I do?" Automatically, my hands roam my face, touching my cheeks, lips, and eyes.

"Oh, trust me. You do. And I think it's amazing."

Foregoing my wine, I lie down on the couch, my head in Rose's lap. "You don't need all that junk, you know. I think you're most beautiful just after you wake up when we're at the table eating cereal—no makeup, crazy hair, and a big bowl of Shredded Wheat."

"I do love me some Shredded Wheat," she says then finally giggles and squeezes her body behind mine so we're both lying down. "Maybe we should just date each other."

"Yeah, but then one of us would have to wear a strap-on, and it'd probably be you. I don't have the hips to carry that kind of equipment," I say through a yawn.

"Yeah, you're right," Rose replies, her voice growing heavier with sleep. "And I'm just not into belts this season."

"You see? It could never work." Closing my eyes one last time, I drift into what turns out to be a troubled, green-eyed slumber.

The next thing I know, my head is buzzing, and I open my eyes to find the only shard of sunlight that managed to slip through the curtains splayed across my face.

_Well, this is annoying._

I realize the cranial vibrations are coming from Rosalie's phone, which I'm currently using as a pillow.

Ugh, boxed wine, it is so over between us.

In her sleep, Rose rolls over and knocks me right in the face with her elbow. I retaliate by launching the phone at her head. "Please, God, make it stop."

We both sit up and look at each other, dazed and confused. As she checks her phone, I stagger over to the mirror that hangs over the TV. _Yikes_. "Oh, you were so right. My splotchy, uneven complexion and bloodshot eyes are simply radiant at this hour of the morning. How could I have ever thought otherwise?"

Rosalie is now standing next to me at the mirror. "Dude, look at me. My pores are the size of Texas, and my hair looks like something a horse eats."

We both laugh at each other's idiocy.

"So," I begin, turning away from the mirror, heading toward the kitchen, "who dares disturb our beauty rest?"

"Missed call from Emmett," she says, sounding crestfallen. Seconds later, her phone pings with an incoming text.

"I'm hungry. You want some toast or something?" I ask, standing at the pantry. When she fails to respond, I look over my shoulder to see her grinning like a fool. "Uh-oh. What does lover boy have to say now?" Yanking the cereal off the top of the fridge, I head for the table. I'm way too lazy to deal with a toaster right now.

Rose saunters into the kitchen, reading the text message verbatim.

_Good morning, gorgeous._

She merely glares at me when I pretend to vomit everywhere and continues reading.

_I hope I didn't wake you. I just wanted to know if you and B are interested in joining us for a day at the pier. I really missed you last night. Oh, and tell Bella that Edward says he hopes she's doing well and that he had fun 'accompanying her on the boat.' Could he be any gayer? Let me know when you get this. – Em_

I'm bum-rushed in my chair, suddenly wrapped in Rosalie's arms and covered in her blonde hair.

"You see, Bella? Edward _is_ a gentleman! That boy is off the chain into you! Didn't I tell you?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I mumble. Only when her back is turned do I allow myself a brief but very enthusiastic smile.

So, Edward wants to take it slow? I can take it slow. I am the _queen _of slow.

_Although …_

Maybe I shouldn't play it so safe this time.

Maybe it'd be fun to hold the power for once in my life.

Much to my chagrin, Rosalie interrupts my musings. "Hurry up and get in the shower. I told him we'd be over in an hour and a half."

"I'm good. I showered last night. I think I'll just get dressed and wait for you on the beach."

"Okay, whatever. Emmett said to just come in when we get there, but don't go over without me," she says, turning away and squeeing the rest of the way into her room.

"Oh, I won't," I murmur under my breath as the wheels in my head start turning.

Okay, so I have an hour and a half to strategize my approach while I wait on Rosalie. I don't have a clue as to how I'm going to play this off. If Rose is right—and she usually is when it comes to these things—do I really have the tits to play the part of the subtle vixen with someone like Edward?

What if he's not interested, though? What if he's more or less humoring his friend, who most definitely _is _interested in Rose? What do I do then? I guess I'll just have to feel him out when I see him.

One thing's for sure—this could get interesting.

00000

Hey, guys! Thanks for reading, and thank you so much for taking the time to leave me your thoughts. I don't say it much, but I do appreciate it, and I do respond to all reviews. Very exciting news: I _finally _made a FB page for my alter-ego. Please join me by searching for Ashesashes OmGee, and check out my story album to see all the banners/links to everything I've written so far.

Huge special bear hugs go to Alice's White Rabbit this week for stepping in during Fran's absence as my beta for this story. While Fran is having the time of her life on her own vacation, Sally kindly agreed to put her unpacking aside and lend me a hand (and about forty corrections, lol). Mwah to both you ladies!

That's all I've got for now. See you next week (or hopefully on FB later tonight)!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	10. Chapter 10

I do not own Twilight.

Chapter 10

EPOV

Look at her out there, so beautiful, so perfect. I want to walk out to the beach and join her on that cabana so goddam bad, but I can't. For several reasons, I just _can't. _

The boat ride the other night was incredible. The time I spent with Bella was sweet and intimate and just what I needed. I don't care if Emmett thinks I'm a pansy for not making any rash moves—all that matters is what Bella thinks. Unfortunately for me, I have no idea _what_ she's thinking, or what I should be thinking in regards to her and Rose being MIA all day yesterday.

I hope she hasn't decided to hate me already.

Out on the water, when Bella put her unbelievably soft lips onto mine, I wanted nothing more than to throw her over my shoulder, take her below deck, and lose myself in her. Of course, that didn't happen, and I managed to keep the beast at bay.

My reward for being a decent guy was having her glued to my side for the rest of the evening and being able to put my arm around her waist—a gesture that felt so natural, it almost scared me. Not to mention, having the chance to give all the other guys that sly, _ain't-gonna-happen-bro_ smirk whenever they'd check her out and notice me staring right back at them.

It actually bothered me how much attention Bella garnered in one night. Not because I'm a jealous prick. On the contrary, having someone as beautiful as Bella, whom no one can keep their eyes off of, would make me enormously proud. It bothered me because she had no clue it was even happening—no idea whatsoever that every guy we passed had to stop and take a second look. I can only hope she knows at least a little self-defense. God forbid if she was attacked, it's highly likely she'd never see it coming as unaware as she is about her surroundings.

Anyway, that night was perfect.

Until I choked.

Things were going swimmingly until we said goodnight. That's when I blew it. We were all alone, and I know she wanted me to kiss her. I've seen that look in a girl's eyes before. Bella wanted it bad, and believe me, I did, too—more than anything I've ever wanted in my life. When she closed her eyes and tilted her face toward the moonlight, her lips slightly parted, I just about came undone right then and there, and stupidly, I kissed her nose instead.

Fuck me, right?

But seeing her like that—all wanton and ready—my dick was _this _close to bursting right through my zipper and impaling her right there on the front porch. Normally, at the point a girl gives me the kind of green light Bella was giving, I'd simply make my final move and seal the deal. If she were any other girl, I would've been well on my way to taking care of _both_ our needs.

But I just couldn't do it.

I've known Bella less than a week, and already she's so far above and beyond anyone else I've ever dated, including my ex-fiancé, Tanya.

_Especially _my ex-fiancé Tanya.

The life-ruiner.

After that first night playing poker with the girls—the same night I realized I was a goner for brown eyes and pink cheeks—I vowed not to treat Bella like every other one night stand, and I'm going to keep that promise. I think the best thing I can do right now is to stay the course and let her keep the reins on this thing. But mark my word; I will not waste one more green-light opportunity with that girl. Next time, I'm going for it.

That is, if she'll still have me.

God, I hope it's not too awkward when I see her today. When I'm _actually _seeing her and talking to her and not just spying on her like a total creep while she chats it up with the beefy, overly-tan lifeguard.

_Wait, what?_

When did this happen? What the hell does that greased-up sand clown think he's doing? And for the love of all that is holy, could his swim trunks _be _any smaller?

"What's eating you?" Emmett asks, joining me at the large bay window.

"Nothing," I snap, beyond irritated at how much shit he's given me over the last twenty-four hours for not taking advantage of the situation with Bella.

"Dude, seriously? That vein on your forehead has a vein on _its_ forehead. It only ever gets that grotesque when you're super pissed at me, and I haven't done shit."

_Yeah, right. _

I ignore Emmett and continue festering at the sight of the dark knight moving in on the girl of my dreams.

Emmett shoves the last half of a banana into his fat mouth and scans the horizon. When he finally notices what's got my blood pressure on the rise, he smiles and points to Bella with his empty peel. "Uh-oh, looks like Paco over there is making a move on your girl."

"Don't start with me, Em. I'm warning you," I say, using every ounce of strength I have not to shut him up with the back of my hand.

"Oh, shit!" he says, punching me in the arm a little too hard. "Look at that. He's got her laughing now. Women love a guy who can make them laugh. Look at her go; he must be quite the comedian."

I grind my teeth so hard, I fear they might shatter.

"Ooh, look! Look at his hand. Look at it. He's pawing at her shoulder."

"Shut up, Emmett."

"Look, now it's sliding down to her back. Smooth move, bro. Whatcha gonna do about it, Edward?"

"_Shut_. Up." What I'm feeling right now is called rage, plain and simple. I can feel it seeping out of my pores.

"Oh—oh, yeah, she's totally into him. Look at her—"

_"Shut the fuck up, Emmett!"_ I yell, shoving his shoulder and spinning him around so we're face to face.

"Hey! Do _not_ put your hands on me. It's not my fault you blew your chance with her."

"I didn't blow anything, so just shut the fuck up for once in your life. God_dammit_, you're pissing me off!" I run my hands over my head, pulling my hair as I steal a glance at Bella and the human Ken doll.

"Jesus Christ, Edward, relax. I'm just trying to get a rise out of you. I don't know if you've noticed, but ever since Tanya, you've been a total fucking dick-wad zombie. Then we come here, and you meet Bella, and she's smart and pretty and fucking _perfect_ for you. You had her right in the palm of your hand, but since you're too busy being _you,_ look what's happening. She's out there right now, talking to the next guy in line while you stand here and watch with your dick in your hand."

"So fucking what?" I yell back. It's probably irrational how much I want to punch Em in the face at this moment, but goddam it's been a long time coming.

"What do you mean _so_ _what?_ So stop being such a camel-toed bitch and go do something about it," he says, slapping me in the face with his empty banana peel.

And there it is. There's the last straw.

I float out of my body and watch from high above as I shove Emmett backward and leap forward, tackling him to the ground before he can even think about reacting.

I am pure adrenaline. I can't feel a thing as we tumble around the living room, trading punches to the back and ribs and taking turns getting the upper hand. I don't know how long we've been at it before the door flies open and the screaming begins. When Emmett somersaults with his legs wrapped around my neck, I rise and fall to see the girls watching us with pure horror written all over their faces.

"Goddammit, _look_, stupid!" I punch Em in the leg as hard as I can, digging my knuckles deep into his calf muscle. He twists around with a howl of pain and finally what I already have.

And all at once, it's over.

We shove away from each other and stand. The side of my head is throbbing and the room is spinning quite a bit as Rose and Bella stare at us with their arms crossed tight.

"What the _hell_ are you guys doing?" Rose asks, looking from Emmett to me and back.

Panting, Emmett puts on a smile. "Oh, nothing. We were just messing around, right, Eddie?" he says, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

I immediately push his arm off me, but he pushes back, and we start to go at it again. However, before we get too carried away, Bella and Rose are pulling us apart.

"Stop it now, both of you!" Bella says, and I stumble backward as she tugs me toward the door, still muttering to herself. "Jesus, of all the stupid shit."

"Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you two?" Rose says.

I notice the upper right corner of my shirt is ripped, exposing my chest, as Emmett and I continue to glare at each other from across the room.

Bella sighs. "I'm getting you out of here. Rose, we're going to take a drive. I'll call you in a couple hours, and we'll see if these two idiots can agree to be civil."

"Good idea," she replies, and I smirk when she gives Emmett a titty twister as we leave the beach house.

Bella doesn't say a word to me as we drive across the island. The top is down on the little red sports car, and my previously injured eye is painfully pulsing to the music as she cranks up the volume when Cashmere by Led Zeppelin comes on the radio.

"Good song," I say, but she merely hums in agreement. When she doesn't elaborate any further, I lay my head back and close my eyes.

Emmett was right. I fucking blew it big time.

The car comes to a stop, and Bella kills the engine. I open my eyes to see we're parked in front of a Baskin-Robbins. I crack a smile at her choice of destination. "Ice cream at 11:00am? Be still, my heart."

God, I'm an idiot.

"Never too early for ice cream. Come on, dummy," she says, getting out the car. She's halfway to the door before I've even got my seat belt off.

So far, our day together is going the complete opposite of what I'd hoped for, but it could definitely be worse. She could've turned around and left the second she saw Emmett and me fighting like a couple of thirteen-year-old boys, but she didn't. She's here, instead, and we're going to get ice cream.

Okay, so she's not exactly happy with me—not even speaking to me, really—but she's _here_, and right now, all I've got left is the hope that maybe, _just _maybe, there's still a chance for us.

OOOOO

Happy Sunday (said no one ever)! Sorry for the late post, but things got all wonky, and I just couldn't make it happen any sooner. _So,_ hopefully this is the culmination of Edward's tension, right? Jeez, someone give that boy a Xanax. Hopefully, Bella can smack some sense into him . . . or maybe find out what's truly bothering him . . .

Big hugs for my beta, Fran, who was able to beta this mug at literally the last minute. She's a wiz. And a gem :)

Have a great week, and I'll see you again soon!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	11. Chapter 11

I do not own Twilight.

Chapter 11

BPOV

The sun is a scorching yellow ball in the middle of the azure sky as Edward and I walk along the shore of the island's marina. We haven't spoken much, but that's because I haven't exactly invited any type of conversation as of yet. I really don't even know where to begin. What Rose and I found when we entered their beach house at the designated meeting time was something neither of us had anticipated. To find Edward and Emmett having it out in the middle of the living room, like two prepubescent little boys seemed to me kind of funny at the time.

Then I realized they weren't just playing around.

They were seriously trying to hurt each other, and their punches and jabs were all business. It didn't matter what they were fighting over; I can't think of a single thing that would warrant such a violent exchange between two guys who were closer to brothers than best friends. Idiots.

"So," I say, finally looking at Edward. He pauses mid-bite of drippy, chocolate frozen yogurt.

"Yeah?"

"What were you two fighting about, anyway? I mean, what the hell got you guys so upset that you had to resort to a physical blow out?"

Edward lowers his spoon, and in an effort to buy extra time, he walks to the nearest trash receptacle and tosses his cup of chocolaty goodness. "Uh, well . . . Let's just say Emmett's had it coming for a long time."

My eyes go wide. "So it was you who started the fight? Seriously? Wow, I wasn't expecting that."

"Well, yeah, but it's not like I just walked up and started beating the crap out of him. I warned him to back off over and over, but he just wouldn't stop. Emmett is a master instigator, and I finally got tired of it. Trust me, Bella. He drove me to that point."

"Wow," I repeat, shaking my head with a gulp of indignant laughter.

I don't like that the boys fought, and I especially don't like that Edward initiated it. But it's more than just my hatred for any sort of violence; back in that living room, I was scared for Edward. Emmett is so much bigger than he is. Though, clearly, my fear was misplaced, as Edward had no trouble holding his own.

I make my way over to a bench made of driftwood and wait until he is seated next to me before I continue. "You still never answered my question. Why did you guys fight? What exactly did he do to spark that kind of reaction from you?"

Now it's Edward who shakes his head. His eyes fall to his lap before he squints up at me, fighting to see me through the rays of the early afternoon sun. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope," I reply without hesitation.

Edward sighs. He averts his eyes once again as he explains. "I was sort of watching you earlier when you were on the beach, and that's when it all began."

"You were?" This news has me a little taken aback. I'm not sure how I feel about being spied on.

"Yes. I was debating whether or not to join you—whether or not I would be welcome," he says softly.

_What? _I swear this boy is a mystery wrapped in a conundrum. "Why would you think you wouldn't have been welcome?"

Edward shrugs. He's having a hard time with this conversation, but I don't care. After the other night, as well as this morning, he owes me some answers.

"Well, pretty much since the first time I saw you, things have been going the exact opposite of how they should have gone. First you thought I was gay, and then I got beat up by some random guy. You found out first hand that I sometimes hook up with random girls, and then there's the night of the boat ride. I had the best time with you, Bella. But the way I left things . . ." He both hands through his windblown hair. "When you didn't come around at all yesterday, I figured I finally scared you away. So, for all those reasons and more, no, I didn't think I would be welcome to come and sit with you."

"I see," I'm nervous about where the conversation is headed. I'm not yet ready to hear that he's not interested in being my booty call or that he doesn't particularly want to sleep with me, so I change the subject. "If Emmett is such an asshole, why hang out with him?"

"Because we're brothers and sometimes we fight. He'll get over it, and so will I. Before, his badgering didn't get under my skin so much, but ever since Tanya, I think I'm just a lot more sensitive to it."

_Oh, crap. That's what it is. _There's someone else, and I've been throwing myself at a taken man this whole time.

_Fuck._

"Tanya?" I ask, my voice as small and squeaky as a mouse.

Edward looks at me, and I can tell he didn't mean to bring her up. He sighs again. "Sorry, Tanya is sort of my ex-fiancé."

_Ex-fiancé? _Oh, how awful. Still, I hope Edward can't see the relief on my face. "You were engaged? Obviously, you don't have to talk about it if it's too personal. You know, with the 'rules' and all," I say, completely torn. On one hand, I'd really like to know what happened to Edward, but on the other, it's a little outside the boundaries we'd already established—the boundaries I'm comfortable with.

"No, it's okay. I don't mind. Yes, Tanya and I were engaged. We were high school sweethearts. She was my first love—my first everything—and I guess it was just too perfect to last. Fairy tales rarely have a happy ending, you know."

"What happened?" I whisper.

"Oh, just the same old cliché stuff. Boy meets girl; boy falls head over heels and proposes right after high school in front of her entire family, inadvertently making it hard for girl to say no. Later, boy surprises girl by coming home early for winter break only to discover girl has been with a different boy since freshman year of college."

My mouth hangs open. I don't know what to say. Edward regards me with a shy, _waddyagonnado_ smile. "Oh, Edward."

"We went to different universities. I didn't know. I was so busy making sure all my boxes were checked, I had no idea she had even slipped away."

"So, since then, Emmett's been helping you get over her by trying to make you do things you're not ready to do. I can see how that can get annoying," I say.

"You're very astute."

"I pay attention," I say with a shrug, eliciting a smile from Edward. His confession is so endearing, it inspires one of my own. "Truth?"

"Sure, why not."

"I thought you were trying to give me the boot when you kissed me on the nose the other night. I was so embarrassed. I really wanted you to kiss me, if you couldn't tell, just not like that."

"I could tell," he says. Again, his words are quiet, his eyes far away.

"Then why didn't you? Kiss me, I mean. Is it because of her?"

Edward takes a deep breath. "Yes and no," he says, and when he finally looks at me, I can see a million different emotions flashing in his eyes—pain, regret, longing, and so many more I can hardly keep up. "Bella, I like you. I like spending time with you. I like holding your hand. I love the way your lips feel on mine, and the reason I didn't kiss you isn't because I'm not ready to, because I am. I just don't want this to be like every other one night stand I've had in the past. You deserve better."

"But—"

"And I know we only have a week and a half left together before you're gone forever. I know I should just man-up and give into my desire to be with you, but I just . . . I haven't felt this way in years and want it to be special."

Edward chuckles. "And that right there is why I was beating the hell out of Emmett. He called me a pussy for not going down to the beach, for not going for it, for not nailing you while I had the chance. I just cracked."

Wow. I don't know what to think. Edward has laid all of his cards on the proverbial table, and I don't know how to react. Thoughts of my original plan to seduce him slide through my head, and I can't help but laugh. As usual, my timing is horrid.

"What? Why are you laughing?" Edward frantically searches my face with disappointment and chagrin written all over his. "Shit, I shouldn't have said anything. Can you just forget that I—"

"No, it's not you. I promise," I say, laying a reassuring hand on his arm. "I have a confession. I was going to try to seduce you today." I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the laughter to begin.

"Huh?"

"I know it sounds dumb, but I wanted you to want me. I wanted to wrap you around my little finger. I didn't want you to be able to say no to me next time. God, I'm so ashamed. I'm a terrible person."

"No, you're really not."

"Yes, I am. But I want you to know the plan is off. I'm just happy we met, Edward. Whether we hook up at some point or just remain buddies, I'm really glad I got to know you."

Edward smiles that brilliant smile of his and stands, holding out his hand. I readily accept it and he pulls me up. "I'm glad to know you, too, Bella Swan," he says, and we begin walking again. "And, just so you know, this little finger of yours?" He holds up our hands and points to my pinkie finger. "I'm already there."

00000

Thanks for reading! And sorry for the late post, everyone. I'm not going to bore you with excuses, but Mr. Ashes had a looooong business trip that we've been preparing for, and I just didn't have time. Hopefully, it won't happen again.

Big ups to my beta Franny for betaing on the fly, and a huge thank you to all of you for supporting this story. I happened to notice that I was recommended on the Lemonade Stand, and I couldn't be happier or more thankful. If you're just joining us, WELCOME! I hope to hear from all of you in the reviews!

Until next time …

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	12. Chapter 12

I do not own Twilight.

Chapter 12

EPOV

"Look, it's Rose and Emmett. Should we go and say hi?" Bella says, squinting into the distance. She looks so adorable in her little green bikini.

_Dick-twitchingly adorable_.

"Nah, I'm good. I'm not ready to play nice with him yet, but if you want to go say hi to Rosalie, don't let me stop you," I say, hefting the boogie board under my arm.

"That's okay. I'll just shoot her a text letting her know we're here. Maybe we can meet up for dinner. You guys can't go on like this forever, you know."

_Wanna bet. _

"Yeah, well . . ." I mutter. I'm not changing a damn thing until Emmett mans up and apologizes to me for the way he's acted.

Bella taps out a quick message to Rose before hiding her phone in her beach bag. She grabs her own boogie board and smiles at me. "Ready?"

I look from the comfort of her lovely face to the uncertainty of the churning ocean. I'm perfectly content playing on the beach all day long, but actually getting into the water is another thing. She must see the fear in my eyes and her small, warm hand grabs hold of mine.

"Don't worry, Edward. I won't let anything happen to you. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be a seasoned pro."

I love her confidence, and I have to say, I feel a sense of comfort going into the ocean with someone who knows what she's doing. If it were just Emmett and me, I wouldn't dip one toe in that water.

"Okay, let's go," I say, and we walk hand-in-hand into the Gulf of Mexico.

It's truly amazing how fast time flies when you're having fun. Bella and I spend hours playing in the water—on our boards, off our boards, body surfing, digging for sand dollars, etc. I never would have guessed how much fun the ocean could be. Hell, it's not scary at all! Turns out, the ocean is kind of a pussy.

When Rose and Emmett finally notice us, she and Bella wave to one another while Emmett and I trade middle fingers.

"Oh, for the love of God. You two need to grow up and get on with your lives. He's a jerk, but he's also your brother. If you can't live with him, you need to tell him so. If you can't live without him—as I suspect you can't—you need to let him know."

I smile at her. "You're right. How did you get so smart?" We're both straddling our boards, holding hands, and she pulls herself toward me, closing the gap between us.

"Either forgive him or move on," she says. She's close enough to kiss, but before I can do just that, she pushes herself away and falls into the water. I see her surface about twenty feet away as she swims toward the shore.

I grow nervous.

Without her in my atmosphere, the ocean changes back into a big scary monster, its deep blue waters no longer inviting but foreboding.

When I see her fling her boogie board onto the beach and head back into the water, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. My stomach growls and I realize I'm both hungry and tired from being in the water all day.

"Hey, should we head back soon? I'm starving."

Bella hops onto my board with me and straddles it so we're facing each other, our knees touching.

_What was I saying?_

"Pooping out already?" she asks with a giggle. "Let's stay another fifteen minutes and then we'll go. I'm just not used to being in water this warm. I could stay out here all night."

I scrunch my eyebrows. "But isn't California supposed to be, like, really hot?"

Bella laughs at my ignorance. "First of all, who says I'm from California? And second of all, it doesn't matter where you live on the West Coast; the pacific is _cold_ with a capital C."

"Oh," I say and shrug dumbly. "I guess I assumed you were a California girl when you said West Coast because I know so little about it. That and blondie over there looks like the poster child for the SoCal lifestyle," I say with a chuckle. "She's unusually tan, if you haven't noticed."

Bella snorts. "Yes, I've noticed. It's all a mirage, though. Smoke and mirrors."

"So, where _are _you from?"

She takes a minute to think about it before shaking her head. "Sorry, rules are rules."

"Right, good thinking. You never know; I could be a psychopathic serial killer just waiting for you to drop a morsel of telling information so the stalking can begin."

"A girl can never be too careful."

_I love being around this chick_.

"Emmett and I will be joining you out west for med school this fall," I say and quickly cover my mouth in mock horror, as if I've divulged too much.

Bella's beautiful brown eyes go wide, excited. "Really? Where?"

I tsk at her eagerness. "Sorry, rules are rules. Who knows what kind of nutbag you really are," I say, but the smile I give her hopefully conveys that I'm teasing.

"No, no, you're totally right. We should stick to casual. Like you said, fairy tales rarely have a happy ending."

_Whoa, does that make me her Prince Charming?_

We stare at each other, and yet another perfect opportunity to kiss her passes me by when she suddenly looks around, gripping the board tighter.

"Holy fuck!"

I startle out of my daze and look around to see we're way too far from the beach for any sort of comfort, and we're continuing to move further away at a rapid pace. It's as if the boogie board suddenly grew a motor and is taking us out to the open sea.

Cue the freaking out on my part.

"What's happening? Seriously, what the _fuck _is going on, Bella?" I ask, holding the board so tight, it feels like my fingers are going to sink through the foam any second.

"Shit. Shit, shit, _shit,_" she mutters to herself, not paying attention to me.

"_What?_" I yell. I can feel the cold hands of anxiety wrapping around my neck.

"I think we're in a rip current. Yep. Yeah, we're definitely in a rip," she says and continues her stream of murmured profanities.

"What the hell does that mean? What's happening? Oh, my God, we're going to die out here. I knew this would happen. I fucking knew it!" At this point, I'm straight up hyperventilating.

"Edward, you have to calm down. Do _not_ have a panic attack on me," she says in what must be her sternest voice.

"Too late," I say, clutching my chest with one hand and holding on for dear life with the other.

_I think I see the white tunnel. _

_The pearly gates are coming into view_.

"Look at me. Look me in the eyes," she says, but I can barely hear her. All I can hear and see and feel are the images of my own impending demise. When that small, warm, and surprisingly strong hand grabs my chin and shakes my head, I'm finally come into focus.

"Dammit, Edward, we're not going to die. I promise you, we're going to be okay. We just have to ride this out."

"Ride it out?" I ask, highly incredulous.

I think I'm in shock.

"Yes. Eventually the current will release us, and when it does, we'll have to swim back to shore." We both look back to gauge how far we've come, and my chest tightens even more when I count almost three football fields between us and the sand. She looks at me again, this time with uncertainty in her eyes. "How good a swimmer are you?"

"Oh, God," is all I say. Luckily, I _can _swim, but I've never had to swim any further than the length of Emmett's cheesy above-ground pool. "I can swim. I don't know for how long, but I can swim."

_This is not good_.

I'm already exhausted and hungry, and now I have to swim roughly four hundred yards, depending on when this water ride from hell finally decides to let us off.

_I am definitely going to die today._

"As long as you can float, we'll be okay. The current will help us move toward land. We'll take it slow, but we still need to make it back before sunset," she says, looking up at the sky to see it's already changing from blue to pink.

When the swift moving current finally does cease, we spin around and around as we're dumped out past the breakers into the calm, open water. The darkening skies leave the water an opaque gray blob, and I can't help but think of all the terrible things beneath the surface just waiting to rip my appendages off and eat them for dinner.

Bella grabs my hands. "This is it. We're going to have to ditch the board; it'll only slow us down, and trust me, you do not want to be this far out after dark. Terror must be written across every inch of my face, because the next thing I know, Bella's hands are caressing my cheek. I lean into her touch, and for the briefest moment, I forget all about our predicament.

Until something brushes my leg, in which case, I begin screaming like a little girl.

"Edward!"

"Something touched me! It was a shark; I know it was! They know I'm here! They can smell my fear," I say, looking every which way, trying to make out something—_anything_—in water the color of stone.

"Shh, Edward, stop. Listen to me: we're going to be _fine_. I told you I wouldn't let anything happen to you, and I meant it. We're going to make it back to shore in one piece, but we have to start swimming right now, okay?"

She's speaking to me as if I were a child, but that's okay because right now, it's the most comforting sound in the whole world. "Okay. Okay, I can do this. I'm going to live."

"Yes, you are."

"I can't die now. I still have years of making fun of Emmett ahead of me. This is not the end of Edward Anthony Cullen."

Bella smiles. "Edward Anthony, huh? I like that. And you're right. You're a strong, able-bodied young man. You're more than capable of swimming back to shore. Now, come on. I know you can do this."

"Okay," I say, and because Bella said I could, I know for sure that I can.

_I can do this_.

* * *

"I can't do this anymore!" I yell between pants and coughs and lungfuls of salt water.

"Yes, you can, Edward. We're almost there. Just a few more yards," she calls over her shoulder. Of course, she's way ahead of me and still going slower than she normally would so she doesn't lose me altogether.

"Go on without me. I'm just going to float right here until I die," I say, and God help me, I mean it.

"Pull it together, man!" she yells, and I can hear her exhaustion, as well.

I continue on, one arm after the other, even though I fucking hate it with everything inside me. Every second is sheer torture. My lungs burn from the panting, my throat burns from the salt water, and every muscle in my body is on fire. Giving up and letting the waves pull me under is sounding better and better when, suddenly, my foot brushes the bottom.

Holy shit, it's the bottom. I can touch! I can stand! I want to shout for joy, but when Bella stands and continues trudging onward toward the shore without looking back, so do I.

Emmett and Rosalie spotted us while we were still way out there. Rose must have figured out what happened to us because they're both waiting for us at the shoreline in panic-mode.

As soon as I'm out of the water, I sink to the beach, hugging the sand, and sending prayers of gratitude to the universe.

_I will never take life, or the ocean, for granted again_.

"Edward!" Emmett shouts, and as soon as I stand on shaky legs, I'm in his arms and off the ground. I can't help but return the gesture and hug him back as hard as I can. "Edward, you're alive! I'm so sorry I've been a jerk. I'm so stupid for always egging you on. There were no lifeguards around, and oh, God, I thought you were a gonner! Are you okay, buddy? I thought I'd lost you! How did you do that? You can't even swim!"

I laugh at his dramatics, and he finally sets me back on my feet. I look at him with an exhausted smile. "I just fucking did, didn't I?"

Emmett shakes his head. "You are the goddamn wind beneath my wings."

"I love you too, bro," I say and look past his shoulder to see Bella just pulling away from Rosalie's embrace. "If you'll excuse me, Em, there's something I need to do."

I march toward Bella with a new outlook on life. It's because of her I'm even alive right now, and I intend to show her just how grateful I really am. She looks uncertain—maybe even a little scared—by the determination that narrows my eyes and sets my jaw, but it doesn't faze me. I now know that she doesn't have to worry about anything when she's with me.

Ever.

She opens her mouth, but before any words can tumble out, I crash into her and swallow them whole. I hold her as tight to me as I possibly can and kiss her wildly. I've never felt so alive in all my life. Bella responds in kind, and I nearly growl at the feel of her hands running over my scalp and fisting my hair.

Before this moment—before Bella—I merely existed. Now, I am alive.

Somewhere behind us, Rose and Em begin to applaud. "Fucking finally," Em mutters, but I don't dare break contact.

All I can see is Bella.

All I can feel is Bella.

She is everywhere.

She is everything.

The burning embers I've always felt for this girl are now a blazing inferno, and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that _she _is the only one who can tame the fire inside me.

* * *

Well, well. Nothing like a little near death experience to straighten out one's priorities. Haha, thanks for reading, everyone! I'm so grateful to all of you who stop by on a (semi)weekly basis to join me in this little corner of my imagination. If you'd like to join me somewhere else, you can do so on Facebook. Just look for me under Ashesashes B OmGee.

Big thanks to Fran for polishing me up and pimping me out. She's peaches.

Thanks again! See you all next time!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	13. Chapter 13

I do not own Twilight

Chapter 13

BPOV

"I can't believe you guys were caught in a rip. I mean, growing up near the ocean, you hear about that kind of thing, but to actually be stuck in one? Were you terrified?" Rose asks, paying no attention to her half-eaten double cheeseburger.

I look to Edward, and now that the adrenaline has worn off, I can tell he's a little embarrassed about how he reacted. He doesn't have to worry. No one but me will ever know.

"Yeah, we were both kind of freaking out at first, but we knew what we had to do so we pulled it together," I say coolly with a shrug.

Edward pushes his empty plate away. Much like mine, his burger is long gone. "Well, _Bella_ knew what we needed to do. Without her, I'm 99.9 percent sure I'd be fish food right now."

_So much for covering his ass_.

Emmett shakes his head. "Crazy. So what are we doing tonight? I think this calls for a celebration."

_Oh, hell no._

Before I can wuss out and tell everyone that I'm just not into it tonight, Edward does it for me. Bless him.

"I don't think I'm going anywhere tonight, Em. I'm exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for days. You guys have fun, though," he says, looking at me with a hint of sadness in his smile.

"I'm with Edward. All that swimming has worn me out. I just want to go home and go to bed."

"Rose?" Emmett asks, hopefully, and I'm surprised he's letting Edward go without a fight.

"Yeah, I'm down. You guys sure you don't want to come?"

"We're sure," we both answer at the same time and smile at each other.

When the bill comes, Emmett grabs it before the rest of us even have a chance. Whenever we go out, it's like a game of _Hungry, Hungry Hippos_ to see who can get the check first. It's been pretty even so far.

Out in the parking lot, Edward places a warm hand on my back. "Why don't you guys go on . . . Bella will drive me home."

"Are you sure?" Rosalie asks, looking directly at me.

I smile up at Edward. "Yep, you two have fun. Drink one for me."

We say goodbye, and Edward and I take off for home in the opposite direction as our best friends. The ride back to the beach is quite, but not uncomfortable. The silence is like an old blanket, covering us both in its warmth. However, when I pull into the driveway and kill the engine, the silence seems to gain some weight.

"So," I say when Edward doesn't make any moves to exit the car.

He turns to me in his seat. "Would you like to come in for a bit? I know you're tired, but if you'd like to—"

"I'd like to," I say rather quickly, and I mentally roll my eyes at my eagerness. When he smiles in return, however, everything melts away but him.

"Great. I'll make us some tea or something," he says and awkwardly exits the car. His shirt gets caught on the door and when I hear a distinct ripping noise followed by his whispered obscenities, I can't help but laugh.

"You all right, there?" I walk around the front of the car to join him, growing warm at the sight of his outstretched hand. When our fingers lock together, the warmth spreads.

_Everywhere_.

"I'm fine. I swear, between losing a shirt in the fight yesterday and ripping a huge hole in this one, I'm not going to have any clothes left by the time this vacation is over."

I want to laugh, but his statement only reminds me that this—whatever it is—is only temporary. Soon, all of it will be over. The heaviness returns, and his grip on my hand tightens as he leads me across the strip of sand-laden grass that separates our two beach houses.

Edward attempts to let us in the house, but when the lock fails to cooperate, I'm once again snickering at his display of aggravation. When the door finally decides to open, he pushes it with a huff.

"You really enjoy watching me suffer, don't you?"

"I do," I say, walking past him into the house. "And it seems to happen so often."

Edward snorts in agreement. "No shit. I think I was born with a target painted on my back or something."

I enter the kitchen and take a seat, watching as Edward fills the complimentary kettle and searches for cups and tea bags.

"I hope green tea is all right. It's kind of bland, but Emmett's a big fan. He's always touting its benefits like it's some sort of miracle elixir."

"Green is good. Do you have any honey?" I ask.

Innocent enough, right?

However, the look in Edward's eyes as he stares at my mouth suggests quite the opposite. I bite my lip, suddenly self-conscious, and I swear I hear him groan. When I raise my eyebrows in question, he seems to snap out of it.

"Honey. Right. Yes, we have honey. For the tea. Honey is for the tea," he says, and I have to cover my smile.

When he reaches high above his head to retrieve a bottle of honey from a cabinet stuffed full of snacks, an avalanche of junk food descends upon him, and my smile turns into full on laughter.

Edward is not amused.

He turns to give me a look, which only makes me laugh harder.

"Perhaps we should get you a helmet. I think it would be a wise investment," I say between giggles.

"Ha ha," he says dryly, but through his irritation, I can see the hint of a smile poking through as he turns his attention back to making us tea.

Once it's finished, Edward sets a steaming mug in front of me. I grab the honey and squeeze a generous amount into my tea, cutting off the flow with my finger—something I always did as a kid. I lick the dollop of sweet golden nectar off my finger and look up to see Edward staring at me with his mouth agape. I smile, though my cheeks are on fire, and turn my full attention to stirring my drink.

"If you'll excuse me, Bella. I need to go, um, yeah," Edward says, taking off down the hall.

_Well, that was weird_.

While he's gone, I take a moment to reflect on what was surely one of the most erotic moments of my life.

Edward's kiss.

_Holy panty-soaking moments, Batman_. The look in his eyes, the way he marched toward me with so much purpose, and ugh, the feel of his lips on mine and his arms around me. Nothing like that has ever happened to me, and no one has _ever_ looked at me like that before. I know he's attracted to me—he alluded to that much even before he kissed me—but his intensity is intimidating. I keep trying to see myself through his eyes, and it scares me.

When he comes back into the kitchen looking calm and collected, I have to cross my arms over my chest to hide the fact that my nipples are about to drill through my T-shirt.

"Wanna see what movies are on?" he asks, bringing his tea to the couch and motioning for me to do the same.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." I join him on the sofa but sit as far from him as possible.

Edward merely laughs and pats the cushion next to him. "What, are you afraid of me now? I don't bite, Bella. That is, unless you want me to . . ."

It's my turn to stare at him with my mouth hanging open. Holy shit, did he just say that?

Edward coughs and clears his throat. "I'm sorry. That was—I shouldn't have said that. You can sit wherever you want," he says, shaking his head and flipping through the movie guide.

_You can do this, Isabella. Just take control. Don't be a chicken._

I stand up and plop down again right next to him, so close our thighs are touching. He looks at me and smiles, and I take a deep breath and do something I've never quite done before.

I kiss him.

As soon as our lips meet, the electricity between us ignites. Edward responds just as I'd hoped he would. His hands first cup my face, then my shoulders, and then they slide down to my waist. Edward's thumb brushes the side of my breast on its downward journey, causing me to shiver against him. He replies to my sigh with a low growl, gripping my hips and lifting me onto his lap.

I'm now straddling him, and as we kiss, my hands roam freely, exploring every inch of skin they can reach on this beautiful man—his kissable neck, the coarse scruff on his cheeks, his soft, crazy hair. I've been dying to run my fingers through it again all night, and I do just that. My fingernails against his scalp elicit a long moan of pleasure, which vibrates inside me.

Holy shit, I am so turned on.

When I pull back and sit up straight, Edward looks up at me, breathing hard, his eyes bright with longing. I cross my arms in front of me and pull off my tank top, and his hands rest on my bare stomach as I reach behind to untie the strings of my bikini. When I do away with the flimsy top, Edward and I both stare at each other, and suddenly, I see it.

I can see how he sees me.

Wonderment and reverence are bursting out of him as he looks me up and down. His eyes hold so many secrets, but right now, they're telling me I'm special—that I'm more than just wanted; I'm desired.

Through his eyes, I'm more than beautiful. I _am_ beauty.

I take his hands and move them up to my chest, exhaling at the feel of his skin on mine. Leaning down, I give him a slow, deliberate kiss, hoping to convey that I feel exactly the same about him. Passion takes hold of the moment, and we become a tangle of arms, hands, and lips, feeling, touching, and sensation.

He takes his lips away from mine and travels down my neck to my sternum, where I know he can feel every beat of my pounding heart. I lean back, reveling in the feel of him all around me, and I know it's not enough.

I need more of him.

I need all of him.

"Edward," I say between pants.

"Yes, Bella?" He's still focused my breasts, and I love the way his long lashes brush my skin with every kiss.

"Take me to your bedroom." When he looks up at me, I know he sees my desperation, but that's okay because I _am _desperate.

Desperate to touch him. Desperate to please him.

I'm still wrapped around him when he stands up and heads down the hall. Kicking open his door, Edward doesn't bother turning on the light. Instead, he tosses me onto the bed, and I yelp with laughter. He removes his shirt, crawling onto the bed wearing only his board shorts. Stopping to kiss my stomach, his hand grabs ahold of the waistband of my jean shorts. Edward looks up at me as if asking permission, and my lip once again finds its way between my teeth as I nod.

I'd give this man consent to do just about anything to me.

He undoes the button and slides the shorts down my hips, along with my bikini bottoms. A wave of embarrassment washes over me at being so exposed, but when I see that reverential look of wonder overcome him again, I know I can relax.

_I am beauty_.

I'd like to say that Edward dove right in, so to speak, but he doesn't. He takes his time to test the waters and discover everything I like—everything that garners a reaction out of me. This goes on for what seems like hours, and three intense orgasms later, he finally comes up for air, kissing his way up my naked body.

At this point, I'm a useless, quivering pile of goo, but when he kisses me, he breathes his life into me, and suddenly, I'm aching to feel him inside.

"Edward, please" I whisper, tugging on his shorts, trying to pull them down.

He helps me along, kicking them off and sending them across the room. Taking a condom out of his nightstand, Edward rolls it on before crawling over me once again. He settles between my legs, and the feel of his erection sandwiched between us makes me crazy with anticipation. His mouth captures mine, I begin grinding against him, sliding up and down his entire length until, eventually, he pushes into me, at which point we both cry out in ecstasy.

"Oh, God, you feel so fucking good, Bella. You're so beautiful, so goddamn perfect," he says and begins to slide in and out of me.

I quickly pick up his rhythm, and the two of us move together in perfect harmony. It's as if we were made for each other. I close my eyes and lose myself in the act, becoming one with the bliss. Nothing has _ever_ felt this right before.

When Edward slides his hands under my shoulders, picking up the pace, I gasp as the muscles in my belly begin to coil. My ears ring as the blood rushes out of my head and to my groin, and I wrap my legs around his waist, giving him the best angle to fuck me silly.

He doesn't disappoint.

"Edward, I—I can't—" I pant, but it's too late. Winding my arms around his neck, I hold on for dear life and ride wave after wave of pulse-pounding stimulation. I cry out his name as fireworks detonate behind my eyelids and my body explodes in sheer, unadulterated pleasure.

Edward slams into me several more times and finally joins me in heaven. He pushes into me as far as he can go, stiffens, curses, and exhales a long, loud growl as he comes.

After, we lay side by side on the bed, sated and panting as we stare up at the ceiling.

"Wow," I say once my head is clear enough to comprehend words. It's not much, but it's the only one I can think of at the moment.

Edward turns on his side to face me, and I do the same. He reaches across, brushing the hair out of my eyes and tracing the contours of my face with his fingertips. I close my eyes and lean into his touch.

"You're amazing," he says, his eyes half closed.

"Ditto."

I pull the covers up to my shoulders and snuggle closer to Edward, resting my head in the crook of his arm. His other arm slides around my waste, pulling me closer still, and within seconds, the tidal wave of exhaustion we've both been fighting finally pulls us under.

* * *

Thanks for reading! And, as always, a huge thanks to Fran for taming the beast. All of you are amazing, and I can't thank you enough for the love and support you've shown me over the weeks. I've really enjoyed getting to know some of you on Facebook. If you haven't joined the fun yet, find me at Ashesashes B OmGee.

See you next time!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	14. Chapter 14

I do not own Twilight.

Chapter 14

EPOV

My Bella. She is elemental beauty. She is earth, wind, fire, and water all rolled into one fine specimen. She's the twinkle of the first evening star or that brief moment of the breaking dawn where the sun first kisses the horizon—where you know everything is going to be all right because it's a new day and nothing can take away the potential it offers.

Guh, one night with the gorgeous day-breaker, and suddenly, I'm waxing poetic. I'm in too deep, and I know it. I know it, and there's nothing I can do about it. I don't know how I'm going to survive a whole week without her once she leaves next Sunday. This place will hold no beauty without her here.

And it's going to kill me to say goodbye.

But say goodbye I must because I, of all people, know long-distance whatevers never work in the end. They're nothing more than wasted efforts that lead straight to heartache, and I, for one, will never put myself through that again.

So it goes, we'll say goodbye soon enough, but until then, I plan to saturate myself in her presence, to soak up as much Bella as I can, and when she does go, I'll wish her nothing but the best. It's my greatest hope that she finds happiness wherever life takes her, and I know she will. It would be impossible for her not to sparkle and shine wherever she ends up and with whomever she ends up with.

I don't think I can say the same for myself, but that's my problem to deal with.

Last night was miraculous. She was absolutely divine, heavenly, and I worshiped at her alter all throughout the night. At first, I wasn't so sure how the evening would go, what with the universe punching me in the face every chance it got.

And then the honey incident.

The simple act of Bella sucking honey off her middle finger completely confounded me; not to mention, it gave me a huge ragger. I had to run to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face and punch myself in the dick a few times until it behaved. But nothing prepared me for Bella's kiss. I wasn't sure where things were between us until that moment.

The rest is history, and now I'm lying in bed, daydreaming about my brown-eyed girl and wondering when I'll get to see her next. We woke up this morning to the sounds and smells of breakfast being made, and I cringed. Emmett and Rosalie were both in the house, and we waited as long as we could, but eventually, we had to take the walk of shame.

It was as brutal as I'd feared.

All morning long, we endured Emmett's slimy innuendos and Rose's four - foot wide smile and dancing eyebrows. Finally, when she couldn't take it anymore, she dragged Bella home for some "girl time," and I've been floating on a cloud ever since, thinking about her hair, her eyes, her laugh, the way she smells, the way she tastes …

Yes, indeed, I am in a world of trouble.

"Hey, boner-breath," Emmett says, entering my room without knocking, as per usual. "Rose just texted, and the girls are suggesting dinner. Should we try to take them somewhere fancy, or is that too cheesy?"

Hm, I do love the idea of taking Bella out and seeing her dressed up. But it probably wouldn't work. "I don't know. They probably didn't pack much in the way of dinner wear. I know I didn't. Better just stick to casual."

"Yeah, I don't know, either. I'll see what Rose thinks about it," he says, looking truly agonized over the decision.

I snort. How anti-Emmett of him.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm going to take a shower, unless you want to get in first. Maybe we should see what Rose thinks about it."

He shoots me a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Relax, I'm just messing with you. Looks like you really like her, though," I say, sitting up.

On cue, Emmett's face goes all soft, and he flops down on the bed where I was just lying. "I do. She's just . . . she's just perfect. She's so pretty and smart, and she doesn't take any of my crap, which is such a turn-on. It just sucks, you know. The situation and all. I don't want to have to say goodbye next week."

Whoa. I had no idea he was taking all of this so seriously. But he's right about one thing. The thing I like best about Rosalie? She takes very little shit. Emmett needs someone like that—someone to keep his goofy-looking ass in line.

"You and me both, buddy." I sigh. The situation is what it is. None of this was meant to be, I guess. With that depressing thought, I grab my shower bag and leave the room.

* * *

Emmett and Rose managed to find a pretty nice place that's upscale but also caters to the tourist crowd, so jeans and a button up are about as fancy as it gets, which is good because that's about as fancy as I get, as well. The girls both look beautiful, especially Bella. She was really shy when we walked over to their place earlier, but I took her hand anyway, and she didn't object. Once the other two were out of earshot, she confessed with a scarlet blush that she let Rose dress her tonight.

I'll have to remember to thank Rosalie later. Seriously, this dress calls for a fruit basket or something.

The deep blue, tight-fitting thing is perfection on her already flawless figure. It's short, but not too short, and it dips low, but not too low. Regardless of it fitting immaculately, she kept tugging and pulling at it as we walked to the car. I told her she's beautiful and has no reason to be self-conscious about anything, but that just made her even more self-conscious. I wanted so badly to dip down and kiss her lips in that moment, but I didn't know if she'd like that, so I bit the inside of my cheek and tightened my grip on her hand instead.

Thank God for Rose and Emmett. They're extra chatty this evening, and I'm grateful for the ongoing, though mindless, conversation. I keep sneaking glances at Bella, and I don't like what I see. She seems nervous, on edge. I wonder if I did something wrong last night or this morning—something that would push her away—but I can't think of anything. She seemed plenty happy with me at the time.

As the dynamic duo peruse through a single menu between them, I lean into Bella. "You really do look beautiful tonight. I thought about you every second of the day," I say, and now it's my turn to blush.

But it seems to help some. Her eyes soften as she gazes into mine, and I reach up to stroke her cheek.

"Same here. I couldn't keep my mind on anything else," she says, and though she looks down, she can't hide her grin.

"There's that smile. I was beginning to think I'd somehow offended you. I don't want anything to be awkward between us, Bella. Last night was . . . perfect. For me, at least. I hope you're feeling the same. If not, you can tell me," I say, keeping my voice low to avoid wandering ears from across the table.

"No, I do. You've done nothing wrong. In fact, you did everything exactly _right._ It's just me. I'm not used to this," she says, gesturing between us. "I've never really had anything this . . . intense before."

My mouth goes bone dry. "Wait, please don't tell me you were a—"

"No," she says quickly, pressing her fingers to her mouth to cover her laugh. "But the multiple orgasms—hell, _any _orgasms—that was definitely a first. My head's been in a cloud all day. You're really good at what you do, Edward. I mean, _really _good," she says as her face and neck grow a deeper scarlet.

Relief courses through me. "Well, you see, it's all in the aerodynamics. You've got to get the angle of the hips just right. It's all about math, really. Ones and zeros."

She snorts and smacks my arm, and I'm so glad to see she's loosening up. "None of that even made any sense, nerd boy."

"I know, but I got you to giggle-snort, so it's a win for me." I sneak a glance at Rose and Em and look back to Bella with narrowed eyes. "Hey, do you think they've . . . yet?

"No, can you believe it!" she says in a loud whisper, leaning into me even further. "I think this is a first. Usually, Rose goes straight for the kill—no pretense whatsoever—but she told me she's actually nervous about it. This is so not like her."

"No, actually, I can't believe it. It's gotta be a first for Em, too." I shake my head then look at her with a sly grin. "Maybe we should help them out like they've always helped us out. You know, give them a little nudge. After all, what kind of best friends would we be if we didn't stick our noses in and fuck with their little bubble?"

Bella's eyebrows scrunch together, and the most adorable V forms right between her eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure we'll come up with something. We can make it fun, if you want. I think we owe them a little payback after this morning, don't you think?"

"Interesting . . . Ooh, can we make them suffer? Just a little? Oh, this is going to be so fun," she says, and I can practically see the wheels spinning in her head.

"What the hell is going on over there? What are you two whispering about?" Rose asks, cocking an eyebrow at us.

"Oh, nothing much. Mmm, I'm thinking a nice merlot sounds good. What about you, Bella?" I ask and lean into her, whispering, "It goes so well with revenge."

She winks at me, thoroughly enjoying the cloak and dagger, as Rosalie glares at us with suspicion.

Bella was right. This _is _going to be fun.

* * *

After dinner, we end the night with a bonfire on the beach. It's been hard for Bella and me to shake our targets long enough to make any sort of plan, but I'm enjoying the night regardless. The weather is perfect, as is the girl who's currently sitting between my legs with her head on my chest. She's laughing her ass off at Emmett, who's trying and failing to frighten us with scary stories. Well, Rosalie seems a little frightened, but Bella's not falling for any of it, and the stories aren't anything I haven't heard a hundred times before.

He's on the one about the escaped mental patient from back in our hometown. It's not all made up. The guy did escape, but he was found and taken back into custody like three days later. Emmett's amping it up, though, claiming the state lied and the guy is still on the loose. And also that he's schizophrenic, bipolar, and thirsty for the blood of young, beautiful females.

His story always goes that the guy only makes himself known every few years with a random, exceptionally horrific murder, mostly in college towns and, more specifically, in sorority houses. His calling card? Tongue removal. When Emmett claims the last attack, a mere five years ago, wiped out the entire Omega Pi population at Ohio University, Bella loses her shit completely.

"I don't see what's so funny, Bella," Rose hisses. "I was in a sorority last year; what if it'd happened to me?" She shudders and sinks further into Emmett, which is exactly the reaction he'd intended.

"I don't buy it for a dollar. Seriously, Rosalie, don't you think a mass murder of that magnitude would have made national headlines? Every sorority in the country would've been on red alert. He's totally fucking with you."

"You're wrong, Bella," Emmett says, eyes wide and serious. "It _did _happen. My cousin, who lives in Toledo, his girlfriend was a member of Omega Pi. She was out of town the night it happened. When she got back to the house, she walked in to find every single one of her friends had been murdered, their tongues removed. To this day, the guy has yet to be found. It's only a matter of time before his next attack."

Bella roars with laughter, and Rose looks like she's going to puke.

"I think I'm going to hurl," she says, confirming my assessment.

Bella wipes the tears of laughter from her eyes and sighs at her friend. "Rose, do not blow chunks over this. You've had a lot to drink tonight. You don't need another reason to get sick." She shakes her head and looks up at me. "This is my life. We can't watch even the lamest of horror movies without her sleeping with the lights on for the next two weeks."

I laugh out loud, burying my face in her silky hair.

"Both of you can eat shit. I'm going inside. Come on, Emmett."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," Bella says but cracks up again when Rose walks past and flings sand on us with her flip-flops.

Stretching and yawning, Bella stands, brushing herself clean and adjusting the little jean shorts she changed into after dinner while I take the opportunity to appreciate her legs for the hundredth time in the last few hours. I hope she's not thinking about calling it a night already, but when I stand, as well, and see the gleam of mischief in her eyes, I know it's not over yet.

"I _just_ thought of the perfect plan. Take a look at that," she says, nodding toward the beach house.

I squint into the dark but have no idea what she's speaking of.

"Right there, sticking out on the side of the house. What does that look like to you?"

I squint harder. "Uh . . . a breaker box?" I look down at her in confusion, and she smiles, sliding her arms around my waist.

"Exactly."

* * *

Thanks for reading, everyone! And sorry about the long delay. Illness, a root canal, and general all around shenanigans were the culprit this time. Huge tackle-hugs for my stand-in beta, Alice's White Rabbit, who so generously stepped up to the plate since Franny is on vacation. Guys, not only did she agree to beta at the last second, she also got it done in under half an hour. Seriously, this woman is the damn truth.

Also, Franny started a FB group for WIPs called Pay it Forward, and occasionally (like today) I'll be posting exclusive teasers. If you want in, please just let me or her know and we'll get you in the door.

Take care, gals, and try to enjoy what's left of the weekend. Hope to be hearing from you all soon!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	15. Chapter 15

I do not own Twilight

Chapter 15

BPOV

Edward and I are like a couple of kids, sneaking around the perimeter of the darkened beach house, spying on our friends. When he trips and nearly falls face first into the sand, I crash right into him, subsequently landing on my ass, and we both erupt in whispered hysterics.

"Shh! Listen," I say, on high alert when the light above our heads comes on. The small, pebbled window above us—the bathroom window—glows soft and yellow, and we both smile at the sound of the shower kicking on.

"You're tall; look and see who it is," I say, standing up and brushing the sand off my knees.

Edward looks at me as if I'm missing a chromosome. "Are you crazy? I'm not looking to be featured on anyone's sex offender list, thank you very much. I'll let you handle this one."

"Fine. Give me a lift," I say and climb on Edward's shoulders when he kneels in the sand.

He slowly stands, and I try my best to stifle my squeals as I awkwardly levitate toward the window. The textured glass is now foggy, and I can't see a thing. However, I can hear Rosalie humming the tune of some ridiculously overplayed Katy Perry song, which can only mean she's alone.

I tug on Edward's hair. "Elevator down, please," I whisper, and he kneels to the ground once again.

"Well?"

"It's Rose, and she's alone," I say with a smirk.

Edward nods thoughtfully. "Makes sense. Emmett's not into shower sex—totally weirds him out. So, what do we do now?"

"This is perfect. We'll make some racket to scare her and cut the lights mid-shower. Oh, man, just wait for it; Rose is going to lose her shit," I say, rubbing my hands together in anticipation.

Edward looks uneasy. "I don't know, Bella; isn't that kind of . . . mean?"

"Isn't that kind of the point?" I say, my eyebrows raised in question. Edward still doesn't look convinced, and I think he's going soft on me. "Will you stop overthinking everything? This was your idea to begin with, and it's going to be great, I promise." I push him toward the breaker box stationed a good ten feet away from the window and begin searching around.

I don't even know what I'm looking for until I find it: an old, rusted garden tool leaning up against the A/C unit. I pick it up, testing its weight in my hands, and turn to Edward. "Wait for my signal and then kill the lights, got it?"

"Got it," he says with a nod of renewed commitment.

_Excellent_.

I bring the metal-pronged tool up and slide it against the window. It makes the most satisfyingly hideous screeching noise, and I have to cover my mouth to smother my squee of delight.

At the sound of impending doom, courtesy of the rake, the water shuts off and all activity ceases in the bathroom. It would appear my bad behavior has had its intended effect, and I smile with victory. Pressing my back to the weathered siding, I give Edward an emphatic thumbs-up. He cuts the power and runs to join me under the window.

Rose's blood-curdling scream fills the dark silence, and Edward and I high five our success.

"Let's go!" I whisper, and we run hand-in-hand to the front of the house to give ourselves up.

Just as we reach the front porch, Edward stops. "Watch this!" He pulls his hood over his head, tying it so tight you can't see his eyes.

"You're an idiot. Watch this!" I say, pulling the collar of my shirt over my head, mirroring his antics; although, I look more like Beavis than any kind serial killer.

"I can't see anything," he says feeling around for my hand.

"The door is straight ahead. Just run in screaming," I whisper, pushing him forward.

Edward and I burst through the door, and through my pathetic 'Rawr,' I hear a louder, deeper scream, followed by a distinct, _'Oomph'_.

I pull my shirt back down, but something scratchy slams into the side of my head, and I'm once again knocked on my ass.

"What the—!" I yell as I continue getting pummeled by the unknown object. "For the love of God, stop! It's just us!"

"Oh, my God," Emmett says, and I'm suddenly blinded by the sun. Except it's not the sun. When my head clears, I realize it's only a flashlight.

"What the _actual_ fuck, Bella?" Rose screams, and I shield my eyes to see her standing over me with shampoo dripping from her hair.

She looks like she's about three seconds away from ending my life and I give her a weak smile. "It was funny, right?"

Rose is too enraged to answer. Instead, she raises her weapon—a large broom—and launches herself at me again. Thankfully, Emmett is faster, and he grabs her around the waist, holding her back.

"Fuck, dude, are you all right?" Emmett angrily asks Edward.

I look over to see him struggling to sit upright. He's pinching the bridge of his nose, which is currently gushing blood.

"Oh, my God!" I scramble over to him, and my hands frantically hover over his face, not knowing what to do. "Holy shit, are you okay? Here, lean your head back," I say, pulling off my plaid, collared shirt. I wad it into a ball and press it gently to his nose. This is all my fault, and all I want to do is help him.

"Bella!" Rosalie snarls.

My eyes go wide as I keep my focus on Edward, hoping she won't finish whatever homicidal thought she's thinking.

She does.

"Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? Do you understand how dangerous that was? What if I'd slipped? I could have been _killed_. What the _hell _were you thinking?"

I sigh, feeling horrid, and stand to face her. "Rosalie, I'm so sorry. I guess, I _wasn't _thinking. We were just trying to have some fun with you guys. I mean, after your reaction to Emmett's stories and everything . . ."

_Ugh, just shut up, Isabella._

"Well, tons-of-fun, I'm glad you got your kicks. Now turn the lights back on and get the fuck out."

"What? But I—"

"You _literally_ have five seconds to get out of my sight before I kill you," she says, her voice grave, and there's no doubt she means it.

"I'm sorry," I mumble. Helping Edward off the floor, he holds my shirt to his face and utters a muffled apology. The three of us—Edward, Emmett, and I—all make our way to the door.

"Emmett, _stay_," she commands.

So low that I know she can't hear, he whispers, "Fuck, yes," and takes his place beside her once again.

I grab my bag off the table on my way to the door and look back at Rose, hoping to convey my most sincere apologies. She's having none of it. She and Emmett glare us out right out of the house.

Edward's free hand takes mine as we make our way through the dark and locate the breaker box. He flips the necessary switches, and the darkened window above us comes alive.

"Jeez, why did I have to take it that far? I feel like such an ass right now," I lament, crossing my arms and kicking the sand with my Converse.

"I'm still bleeding," Edward reminds me in a solemn, nasally voice.

"Oh, God—sorry," I say, quickly taking him by the elbow. I navigate us back to Edward and Emmett's house. After getting the blood washed off his face and doctoring him as best I can with a couple of tampons up the nose, we sit side by side on the kitchen counter, thinking about what dicks we are.

Well, _I'm_ the dick, really. Edward didn't want to take it as far as I did, and because of me, he's been punched out for the second time this week.

"Look, Edward, I'm really sorry about this. You must really think I'm a piece of shit. I mean, who_ does _something like that to their friends? Ugh, I should just go. I deserve to sleep outside tonight," I say, hopping off the counter, fully intending to leave before he can truly start to hate me.

"Hey, come back here," Edward says, tugging my braid.

I turn around, and he opens his arms to me. I feel strangely emotional as I trudge forward and let him console me.

He wraps me in his arms, rocking us gently. "You know who does that kind of shit to their friends? Me. And Emmett. And I'm sure Rose has done her share of crappy things to you, too. Hell, Em and I are constantly doing this kind of stuff to each other. It doesn't usually end this poorly, but . . ." he trails off, and I feel him chuckle against me when my frame sags with guilt. "I'm just messing with you, Bella. Look at me."

I grudgingly meet his eyes and can't help but smile at the sight of him. "You look so silly," I say, flicking one of the tampon strings.

He laughs a little but doesn't stray from the subject at hand. "We're all assholes, you know? But that's why we've all been friends as long as we have. Shit, who _else_ would put up with the four of us, right?"

"Yeah, well, I don't know if Rose is going to want to put up with me much longer. I don't think I've ever seen her this mad. She's never kicked me out before."

Edward traces the outline of my face with his fingertips. "She'll cool down, and everything will go back to normal; you'll see. I don't know about anyone else, but I'd put up with you for much worse than that."

I can feel the blush spreading up my neck as I stare into his ridiculously green eyes. "You would?" I ask in a small voice.

"Much, much worse," Edward whispers and pulls out his nose plugs before placing his lips softly onto mine.

It takes all of six seconds for the kiss to go from nice to naughty. His hands are everywhere—my hair, my face, my neck. He slides off the counter, holding me impossibly tighter, and I sigh against his lips. How easy it is for him to make me forget what a shitty person I am.

The heat takes over us both, and I'm suddenly desperate for him. I _need_ him.

_Now_.

I yank my camisole off, and Edward stares at me in awe for one long second before he's on me again. "God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his lips reclaiming mine.

He grabs my ass and hoists me up, and I wrap my legs around him as I'm shoved back against the fridge. Edward grinds himself against me, and he's rock hard and ready to go.

I shudder with anticipation.

"Let me help you feel good again, Bella," he says, and _God_, his voice is so low and sexy and fucking perfect.

"Here?" I ask. We're both still wearing pants, but I'm already gasping for breath as he continues to work his hips.

Edward cocks an eyebrow, and a sly grin spreads across his face. "I have an idea. Are you up for a little adventure?"

"With you, anything," I say, rolling my body against his. "What do you have in mind?"

He buries his face in my neck and moans at the friction we're producing. His lips move to my ear, and the low rumble of his voice sends shockwaves through my entire body. "I've always dreamed being with a mysterious, sexy stranger on the beach, and as luck would have it . . ." he says as his mouth makes its way back down my jaw. He grasps my chin and looks me in the eyes. "Here we are."

When I catch Edward's drift, I gasp and smash my mouth against his, sucking on his lower lip and eliciting another moan from him. "It sounds to me like we don't have a choice then, do we?"

Edward once again kisses me wildly and pulls away, and suddenly, we're dashing through the house. Edward grabs the blanket off the back of the couch, along with a flashlight, and yanks me outside and onto the beach. As I watch him spread out the blanket, I feel giddy.

And nervous and terrified and excited all at the same time.

I would never do something like this in real life, but this isn't real life. It can't be. Edward is too perfect—a physical manifestation of my every naked desire—and I when I'm with him, it's like I'm living inside my wildest dreams.

When he finishes our nest, he pulls me close, and we both glance up and down the shore. There's not another soul in sight. We smile at each other, and the only sound I hear aside from the waves crashing behind us is the blood roaring through my head, my body. Edward brings his hands to the side of my face, and the caress of his fingers is so soft and careful, it's as if he's handling some priceless object that he's terrified of damaging.

Slowly, the manic burst of energy that brought us to this point dissipates, leaving behind a warmth so consuming, I nearly swoon out of existence. We sink to the ground, and I'm lost in his tender gaze. Intense adoration radiates from every inch of him and wraps me in its embrace. I'm absolutely terrified of the meaning behind that look, but at the same time, I also wonder how I'll ever live without it.

There's only one word to describe Edward's intensity and the electricity it stirs between us, but I don't even dare to think it. I can't. For that word is every bit as forbidden as the voyeuristic journey we're about to embark on.

* * *

I don't remember falling asleep, but I'm stirred from my pleasant dreams by Edward tickling me from my legs to my lower back. I muffle a laugh against his chest. "Stop," I croak, my voice hoarse with sleep.

"Mmm, you stop," Edward mumbles.

He tickles my ass this time, and I nudge him harder, smiling as I look up at his beautiful face. "I hate being tickled."

Edward cracks his eyes and looks down at me. "What are you talking about? You're the one doing the tickling."

It's then I realize his hands are behind his head and nowhere near my naked behind. Something scurries across my thigh, and I squeal, pushing myself up. "What the fuck was that?"

Edward finds the flashlight and clicks it on. The beam of light sweeps our entangled bodies, and I scream bloody murder.

"Oh, my God!" Edward yells, kicking his legs. "Crabs! They're crabs! Get up!"

I haven't stopped screaming, and Edward joins in as we both fly off the blanket and jump around like maniacs.

"Grab our clothes! Fuck the blanket!" Edward yells.

"Where are they?" I scream, frantically batting at my hair, imagining the creepy crawling fuckers everywhere on me—_in _me.

"I don't know; I don't see them anywhere. Fuck the clothes; grab the blanket!"

"_You_ grab the blanket!"

Edward scoops it up and beats it against the ground as if he's putting out a fire while I do my part by screaming and running in more circles. When I happen to glance up, I see what looks like a pair of flashing lights coming toward us. The hum of a distant motor reaches my ears.

_Beach patrol?_

"Shit! People! People are coming! I'm naked! We're both naked!"

Edward pulls me by the arm, yanking me from my hysterics, and wraps the blanket around both of us. Together, we make a mad dash toward the front porch, but whoever is coming is coming fast, and we dive into the small gap between the two beach houses. Our screaming must have alerted someone, and the four-wheeler or dune buggy, or whatever the fuck it is, slows to a crawl not ten yards from where we lay, face down in the sand.

_Please keep going! Please keep going! Please keep going!_

My heart is thundering in my chest. It must be very early morning, and the waning darkness threatens to blow our cover. After a few agonizing moments, the vehicle finally moves on, and we both breathe huge sighs of relief.

"What the fuck just happened?" Edward says in a high-pitch whisper, clutching his chest.

I don't have an answer to that particular question. I'm in a stunned daze as we stand up, and Edward wraps the blanket around us again. We leave our shelter of melting shadows, and the sky is just turning pink with the rising sun as we make our way out from between the houses. A sudden burst of laughter nearly makes me scream again, and Edward jumps, as well. Before I can turn my head, something soft hits the side of my face and falls to the ground at my feet.

I look down to see my shorts and bra and look _up _to see Rose and Emmett leaning against the porch banister, laughing at us.

"Did you lose something?" Rose asks innocently, flinging Edward's boxers at him. "You know, the city of Pensacola actually frowns upon public displays of sexual deviance. You're lucky that cop didn't look any harder for you. I didn't leave any room for bail money in the budget."

Edward and I look at each other, speechless, and look back at them.

"Do _not_ mess with us again," she warns and spins around, sauntering away.

I look up at Emmett, still completely gobsmacked, as he smirks down at us. "_Sinners_," he says with a wicked grin before following Rosalie back into the house.

"Okay, seriously, what the _fuck_ just happened?" I say, echoing Edward's earlier sentiments.

* * *

Thank you for reading! And for waiting so patiently for me to get my S $% together. My schedule was insane, and my muse was being awfully elusive these past few weeks. Thank you very much to my stand-in beta, Fran, who's doing a heck of a job while my regular go-to gal, Alice's White Rabbit, works on a much larger RL project for me. Kisses and hugs for you both!

This was pretty much the grand finale of the antics as these four get ready to wrap up their vacay and head home. Can't wait to show you how everything goes down!

See you all next time!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


	16. Chapter 16

I do not own Twilight

Chapter 16

EPOV

Well, it's official. I'm in love. Fuck, how did I let this happen? How did this beautiful stranger manage to wiggle her itty bitty way inside my brain? I thought my heart had closed up shop for good after Tanya, but here I am, totally consumed, and totally at her mercy.

_Shit._

After our not-so-romantic night on the beach, and the calamity of errors it detonated, the four of us finally called a truce. No more stupid pranks; no more bullshit. I'm glad all that's over now, but trust me, it wasn't easy getting there. Rose and Em milked the guilt card as long as possible, but they eventually came around, and now, all is right in the world.

All except for the dark, ugly cloud of Bella's departure that still looms on the horizon, that is.

In just two days, she and Rose are headed back to their real lives—wherever that may be—while Emmett and I will be forced to endure another week by ourselves. What the hell am I going to do when she's gone? How can this place still be considered paradise when Bella's not here to make it so? I don't know what the fuck to do about it. I guess there's nothing I _can _do. We all knew this would come to an end sooner rather than later.

I know it's been on her mind, too. In the last day or so, she's become quiet, contemplative—almost to the point of being withdrawn. Which is fucking killing me, by the way. All I want to do is soak up every second of her smile, her laugh, but our time is coming to an end, and I haven't seen her truly happy in over twenty-four hours. My world has grown a little darker because of it.

The girls are on their way over now, and I hope, more than anything, we can at least have one more day of normal before the end begins. When I hear Emmett greet them in the other room, I yank on my shorts and slide my feet into a pair of boat shoes. Slapping a ball cap on my stupid, crazy hair, I leave my room, and all my worries drain away when I see Bella standing in the kitchen, smiling at me. It's not _my _smile, no. It's not the one that touches every inch of her face and brightens the whole room, but it's still more than I can expect.

"Hey, you," I say quietly and lean down to kiss the top of her head. She tenses up ever so slightly under my touch, and I try not to panic as I move along to the fridge to grab some water.

Shit, this is it, isn't it? This is the end. I can almost feel the goodbye bottled up inside her, held under pressure, ready to explode at any second and obliterate everything in its wake, my soul included.

"So, what's it going to be today? The pier? The beach? I'm up for anything," Emmett says, smiling at Rose.

I don't get it. They're both just as googly-eyed as the day they met. Aren't they sad at all? Don't they realize what's coming in just forty-eight hours?

"I have an idea," Bella says with the most adorable smirk, looking at each of us. "It's a little crazy, though."

"I love crazy. Whatever it is, I'm in," Em says, slapping Rosalie's ass. They've made it blatantly clear by now that they've finally done the deed.

Many, many times.

When Bella looks at me with a brief but genuine smile, I melt. I would literally do anything for this girl. "Me, too. I'm in," I say, although blindly agreeing to things has never served me well in the past.

Her smile grows, lighting up her face and smothering the lingering darkness inside me. "Great, I'll drive."

* * *

"Edward, you've been talking about doing this for, what, a year now? What's the problem?" Em says, making me want to slap him.

Bella's crazy idea turned out to be a tattoo parlor, and I'm starting to panic just a little bit. Don't get me wrong; I love tattoos. I think they're great. It's the pain I'm leery of. And the needles. Lots and lots of needles.

And I'm supposed to be med student soon …

Bella takes my hand. "Don't listen to him. This is permanent. If you don't want one, don't get one. But will you at least sit by me while I get one?"

_Marry me._

I clear my throat and shake misplaced thoughts of matrimony out of my head. "Of course. Yeah, sure. And I _do _want one. I just didn't expect it to be today, is all," I say, glaring at Emmett.

"Come on, bro, it's about time you got the Cullen crest, don't you think? It would make your old man proud."

Bella's eyebrows draw together. "The Cullen _what_?" she asks with the hint of a smile.

I laugh a little and scratch the back of my head. "Uh, my family's crest. Yeah, we're very Irish, if you couldn't already tell," I say pointing to the weird, red-ish hair sticking out from under my cap. "I'm the only male in the family over eighteen who hasn't been branded with it yet."

"Wow, sounds serious," she says.

"You could say that," I say with another embarrassed laugh. "It kind of means a lot to my dad. Pretty lame, right?"

"Not at all. I actually think it's really cool."

"You do?" I ask. I've always been slightly embarrassed by my family's enthusiasm regarding our heritage.

"Yeah. I mean, I know nothing about my roots; although, I'm sure the Swan family crest would have an angrily twitching mustache on it along with the words 'My house, my rules' emblazoned underneath."

Rose cracks up and drapes an arm around Bella. "Gotta love the chief."

I smile because she's smiling. I laugh at the jokes that are lost on me and wish I knew more about Bella's life. I wish I knew everythingabout her life, actually. I want to know what Rose knows. I want to meet this Chief _and_ his mustache and reassure him that, as long as she allows me to be in her world, Bella will always be the center of mine. As long as I was around, she would always be safe and taken care of.

That will never happen, though.

I'll never get the chance to meet her family, or become friends with her friends, or take a personalized tour of her hometown. I'll always remain at the edge of her existence, clinging to the periphery of her memory until I'm eventually swept under the rug of her consciousness and forgotten about.

"Who's up first?" says a tall man with rail-thin arms covered in tattoos. "We can take two at a time."

"You guys go. I'm not sure what I want yet," Rose says, flipping through a thick book of tattoos.

Bella shrugs and steps forward. "I'll go."

"Me, too," I say, and the smile we share gives me all the courage I need.

After emailing TJ, the wiry tattoo artist, a picture of my family's crest, he gets everything transferred and prepped, and Bella and I sit in long black chairs across from each other. I decided on the inside of my left forearm for the location, and Bella gets hers in the same spot. She's finished and out of the chair pretty quickly and comes to sit by me as I grind my teeth through the scorch of the needle.

"What on earth is that?" I say with a teasing nod toward the squiggly line that's now a permanent part of her body.

She holds it out and smiles down at it. Her cheeks darken with a blush, and if I wasn't gripping the edge of my seat so hard, I'd love to reach out and feel its warmth.

"It's an ocean wave. So I'll always remember this place," she says softly.

I look up at her, and as her eyes search my face, her smile falls. It's heartbreaking the way she looks right now—like she wants to say something but can't. Or won't. Or doesn't know how.

I clear my throat and look back down at her arm. "Yeah, now I see it. Actually, it looks just like the wave that took us out to sea. Look, there I am about to drown," I say, lightly touching her arm. I try to produce some semblance of a smile for her, but I don't think I'm very successful.

Bella abruptly stands. "I'm sorry, I have to—" she says, fleeing the room before she can finish her thought.

I wish I could run after her. I wish I could kiss her and hold her and tell her my entire life story so she knows everything about me. So she knows I no longer care about the stupid rules, that none of it matters anymore because I've come too goddamn far.

But I don't because I'm stuck here in this chair, on the edge of her existence.

* * *

Aww, sad face! Thanks for reading, guys. I really appreciate you sticking around while I play hide and seek with the end of this story. I want to give a huge shout-out and big tackle hugs to my stand-in beta, Alice's White Rabbit, for taking the reins on this one. Fran spent the week in FORKS for the tenth anniversary and Bella's birthday weekend, and I can't wait to hear all the juicy deets. Especially since she got to meet SM! Ugh, I'm so jealous.

Anyway, thanks again, and I'll see you next time!

XOXO,

AshesAshes


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